While packing my bags last Thursday for an indulgent weekend at a Thai beach resort, Sam joked that I would be saying to our friends in America in just two short weeks (adopting a waspy tone, martini in hand, cardigan wrapped around my shoulders), “When I was in Thailand last weekend…”

Thailand? For the weekend? Monkey business. Thailand’s ridiculous distance from America combined with the expense of getting there means that it’s probably a once-in-a-lifetime vacation destination for most folks in America. And until I lived in Kazakhstan, it was for me, too.

But then I went to Thailand. For the weekend.

I’m not sure when the transformation took place, but somehow the past two years have instilled in me a sense that the world is both available and accessible. These years have given me a fearlessness about international travel that even I find a bit disturbing.

So…call it what you want, but this post is not intended to be a humblebrag. (Note: my former, pre-Foreign Service self would be making a skeptical face at me right now.) I mean, is it still bragging if it’s just what you do? And did I just make it worse by suggesting—once again in a waspy tone—“Oh, it’s just what we do.”

Serious monkey business.

There will always be a part of me that can’t come to terms with the lucky hand I was dealt, but I plan to make it a priority that my sense of gratitude will never be replaced by a sense of entitlement.

{Above: Monkey on the Beach. Below: More photos from my indulgent beach getaway. All are from Hua Hin, Thailand.}