Goddess, I Am.

As far as guilty pleasures go, there’s nothing I love more than bad movies. And no, I don’t mean box office flops like Spider-Man 3 or that hideous Gamer. I’m talking about movies so bad that they actually end up being really, really good – all because you’ve never laughed so hard in your life until you’ve watched ‘em.

I’ve seen – and enjoyed – plenty of these B movies in my time. But there’s none that I love more than my all-time favorite, Sinbad of the Seven Seas. Let one of my (many) favorite scenes tell you why:

Seriously, has anyone heard of a more atrocious dialogue or seen worse acting? I think not! Goodness, I could probably spend the entire afternoon extolling the rather dubious virtues of Lou Ferrigno as Sinbad and John Steiner as the evil Jaffar, but then, I’ll probably babble on and on forever! So if you want to learn more – or if you just need a really, really good laugh – read this fantastic review.

He’s awesome, this Lou Ferrigno.

Oh, and it you want to watch the entire movie, it’s easily available on torrent. Or you can always get it from Amazon for as low as $0.99. Seriously.

I’m depressed. I am now down to my last two Masters of Rome books, and though they’re both thick enough to keep me occupied for the next couple of months, it still makes me sad knowing that in approximately 700 pages or so, my beloved Caesar will be dead. That, and knowing that there will be no more books forthcoming in the series now that Colleen McCullough is losing her eyesight to macular degeneration.

Anybody who’s been reading my blog would probably know by now that I’m completely obsessed with Julius Caesar and all things Roman. I can say with all honesty that Ancient Rome is definitely one of my life’s greatest passions, even if it’s one that I only found less than a year ago.

So in my current despondent state, I find myself wondering what my life would’ve been like if the whole Roman thing was something that I’ve been into since childhood. Would I have chosen to become a Roman historian? Would I have taken an online teaching degree with a major in Roman History? Would I have pursued it, even if it seemed too impractical and useless for one living in the Philippines? Would I be writing in Latin right now, maybe even annotating Caesar’s Commentaries myself, rather than ordering an English-translated one from Amazon?

Yes, how’s that for an alternate universe? The thought of myself leading a scholarly existence is strangely interesting, if not a tad disconcerting.

So will my Roman obsession end with the death of my beloved Caesar, the end of the Roman Republic, and the last of Colleen McCullough’s books? Definitely not! There are more books to read, more stories to enjoy, and more great Romans to get to know and love. And no, I – or anyone else, for that matter – don’t need an online degree for that.

Indeed, my Roman romance is far from over. And that thought, at least, cheers me up somewhat.

I love eBay. I think it really is the best thing since sliced bread.

After four years of shrewd bidding and impulsive online shopping, I’ve finally found that oh-so elusive item (or in my case, items) that make the whole eBay experience so worthwhile. And no, I am not making this up because such things really do exist. It was a sewing machine for my sister, a particular Mango dress priced at a quarter of its original price for my best friend, and two (well, technically, three) of Colleen McCullough’s Masters of Rome books for myself.

And these books were very hard to come by, mind you. I got the first one I ever read (Antony and Cleopatra, which, incidentally, is the last book of the series) from Asia Books in Bangkok. I couldn’t find any other of the other titles for months and months, but with a strange bit of luck, The Fiance managed to snag me a lone copy of Caesar from Fully Booked for my birthday.

I’ve been regularly trawling through Fully Booked, Powerbooks, National Bookstore, Book Sale, and RSO since, but I have not seen a single Colleen McCullough title anywhere. Even the staff claim never to have heard of her, or seen any of her books before.

I would’ve ordered over Amazon, but the shipping charges just don’t seem to justify the purchase. So I tried eBay, and until now, I’m still wondering why I didn’t even think to look there first, considering I’m on the site trawling for Macbooks almost every day anyway. (Yes, I should hit my head on the wall, I know.)

I found three of the seven books in one go. I’ve bought two of the titles, and one of them – Caesar’s Women – turned up today, while The First Man in Rome is still in transit. I’m currently haggling for the third (The October Horse) because it’s a tad overpriced. Truth be told, though, I’ll probably pay twice the price for it in a heartbeat, but the seller doesn’t know that (tee hee), and nobody else is bidding on it. Plus, it really is fun to haggle.

So now I’m just missing The Grass Crown and Fortune’s Favourites. If any of you ever come across these titles, please, please, PLEASE send ‘em my way. I can promise you a lifetime of servitude. Okay, that’s a bit extreme, but, really, I’ll pay. And I’ll buy you dinner, whoever you are. And ice cream. And yes, I’m serious.

Thank you eBay for ensuring that I’m kept amused for at least the next month or so. You really are the best source of everything from breast pumps, to a Romanian vampire killing set. You’re not selling Caesar’s underwear in there somewhere, are you? Just thought I’d ask.

Here’s a fact that I’ve never spoken of before: much of Thailand terrifies me. It has nothing to do with the country’s current political unrest, or scary Thai wannabe kick boxers who beat people up for no reason, or even Thai food, which is scary enough as it is. No, my fears are far worse than that.

1. I’m afraid of getting a haircut from Thai salons. My last haircut was in April, and that was when I went home to the Philippines for a week. Before that, I forced the boyfriend to trim my hair for me, and he did so with scissors and a ruler – seriously. My hair is now getting rather ridiculously long, but I’m trying to hold out until I go home in a few months.

So one may wonder why I have this silly aversion to Thai hairdressers. The answer is simple enough – if you’ve ever seen the average Thai hairstyle, you’ll understand. The majority of the population – men, women, and children alike – sport mop tops and spikes and the uber popular mullet, and I believe there’s nobody else to blame but ‘em snip-happy Thai hairdressers. I’d take my chances with the boyfriend and his trusty ruler again rather than take the risk of looking like Billy Ray Cyrus in his heyday.

2. I’m scared of getting my nails done. Again, the last time I had my nails done was on my last Philippine trip. I’ve been going the DIY route since. Good thing I’m pretty low maintenance in this area, and I’ve never been much of a fan of nail polish. I simply bite my fingernails into oblivion (a nasty habit that I’ve been trying to break forever, which is very unlikely now that it turns out the boyfriend does it, too), and use my trusty nail clippers to cut my toenails off and a sharp metal thingy called a ‘pusher’ to pry out the crap from the sides.

It’s gross, I know, but I’d rather do this than visit the so-called Thai experts in this, umm, specialty for many reasons. For one thing, a pedicure here costs 10 times more than what I would pay for a manicure and pedicure back home. For another, their clientele are often seen leaving the salon in those longer-than-normal tacky acrylic nails with even tackier glittery designs – presumably to match their equally glittery phones and Lecteurs MP3 players. Of course, I can always just refuse, but my Thai is so bad and their English is even worse, and I’m deathly afraid that they’ll misunderstand me and cut off my toes instead. Yes, I’d rather pry out my nail crap myself, thank you very much.

3. I’m scared of getting a wax. Waxing hurts, yes, but I can take it. I actually prefer it rather than shaving because I don’t have to do it as often. While living in Thailand, however, I have to choose shaving because it’s so much safer. As far as I can tell, waxing in Thailand doesn’t work, judging from the number of hairy-legged and even (scarily) hairy-toed women I see every day. I swear, they give Frodo Baggins and his little hobbit friends a run for their money.

Plus, they don’t do full bikini waxes; they only skirt around the edges like they’re scared of something. Believe me, I must have asked all the bikini waxers in greater Bangkok. Well, they can all grow Amazon rainforests down there for all I care, but I’m not gonna.

Indeed, Thailand is a scary place that’s definitely not for the fainthearted. I just hope I can get out of here alive without looking like a Jefferson Starship clone with dinosaur nails and a full bush. *shudder*