I make myself sick.

Ah! I am so mature that I’m disgusting myself.

There is a full moon party on my birthday. It is the type of party that travelers talk about for years, the monthly party that overtakes the remote island of Ko Pha Ngan for days on end. A festival of the moon. A place to lose inhibitions and underwear. A place that makes Vegas look like kindergarten.

And I’m not going.

I am instead headed to a monastery where I will be silent. Again. For ten days, the eighth being my birthday. I won’t be able to celebrate. Or even talk. Or even eat dinner.

And I am actually really excited about it. I think the last Vipassana retreat was my learning experience. And this one will be serious. I know what to expect, and I am ready. Although I have heard that retreats in Asia are tougher, not catered to Westerners. Only two meals a day. And I’ve heard something about a pillow made of wood.

I might end up fleeing to see the full moon.

Either way, see you in 10 days.