Notes to self: Joys of expat life

As an expat, you tend to make close friends quickly. I know, for me, my expat friends become like family; you rely on them for nights out, money when you're having banking troubles, to negotiate language barriers, to be your shoulder to cry on when that guy you fancy from the bar makes it clear he's not interested, and to help you find where you can get your favourite cereal from back home.

On my bike ride, I realised how much I relied on Brock. He took the traditional "man" role, reading maps, changing tyres, ordering food and finding hotels. Meanwhile, I let him. I'm lazy like that.

I couldn't figure out what my role was. I thought I was going to be the one who pepped up our moods with my positivity but I think I cried too much for that. I think my reliance took its toll on Brock at times; three weeks never leaving each other's sight can do that.

But, like when I spent a month with my ex on holiday, it made me realise what my annoying habits are. When I was with The Greek, he kept helpfully reminding me of them; for starters I am time-obsessed and I get stressed too easily. There were too many to recall now.

This time, I had an exciting new range of faults, mainly revolving around the fact that I have no sense of responsibility. I really hate responsibility — to the point that I barely ever make plans. I follow plans, but I don't make them, just in case everyone hates my idea.

When I got back, I decided to be more of an adult. But, even as I finished writing that last sentence, I checked my Facebook to look at a picture of the lovely barman I mentioned before. Needless to say, it's not going well.

Brock is leaving Thailand in just over a week and, quite frankly, I am terrified that I will forget to pay the bills or will have to learn how to be all technologically minded, so that I don't have to spend a fortune getting my phone fixed all the time (Brock usually does it).

My first foray into being an adult has been terrible. I've lost my phone (my fourth in five weeks), I have lost my cash card, and the bank won't let me transfer any money to my Thai account (their fault, not mine), so I am penniless, and my gate key for my house stopped working. How? I don't know. All I know is that I have had to start to climb over my front gate every day. It doesn't feel very grown-up. I can tell that my neighbours enjoy the spectacle, though. I live a little way outside the centre of Bangkok, in a very Thai area. My flatmates and I are the only "farang" (foreigners) around. I get stared at and talked about (not in an unpleasant way, just a curious one) just for walking down the street, so you can imagine what a scene it causes when I'm clambering over my own gate.

But, the thing is, no matter what kind of idiotic situation I get myself into, my friends are there for me. Even those I've only known a few months; I can call them and they will help me. That's the very best thing about expat life, for me. I love travelling, I love not quite knowing what's going on all the time, and I love living a life less ordinary — but, most of all, I love having friends who really look out for me, and who I'd do the same for in a heartbeat.