Thursday. My time in Bangkok is winding down. Here we are at the end. Time to hop a flight and go to my next destination. This time I’m actually ready to go.

Definitely ready for the yoga retreat after the last three months I’ve had. Crazy. Verm to Chicago to Dubai to New Delhi to Hong Kong to Bangkok to Bali. In three months. Not exactly what I was expecting, but I’m here for it. I gotta make up for all the time I lost playing Rip Van Winkle in South Dakota. I need to see the world (and bang all of the attractive men in it)!

Nothing much to say today. Just mentally preparing for my yoga teacher training course. This time I know what to expect. The first time I was just a mess. Now I am less of a mess, but I might still be slightly messy on some days when we get really deep into the trauma stuff. That’s okay. That’s why I’m there. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. I can just wake up in the morning and look out over the rainforest and vibe.

Really just itching to go, to be honest. I’m ready to get a move on. I love Bangkok, but I’m ready to get out of the city and explore. Find a new direction. Find a new job. Find a new place to live. Meet some new people. Make some new friends. Find one hot guy who doesn’t disappear on me who I can reliably fuck on a regular basis. Lol, what a dream.

This is why I treat them like Pokémon cards I collect in a binder, btw. If they’re going to disappear on me, I’m going to treat it like a competition. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. I’d love to just have one guy who sticks around, but they don’t do that. So, whatever. No one complains about men treating women like we are disposable. Why do people complain when a woman treats men the exact same way?

I didn’t tell the British Guy that I’m a writer. Or that I have a blog. Or that I wrote about him on my blog. I did tell the Rare Pokémon, but I doubt he’s read it. Should I tell the British Guy? Is it unfair to him if I don’t? Am I violating his personal liberty by writing about him without his knowledge or consent? Who knows? Who cares? If he’s meant to find his way over to BetseyHorton.com, he will.

I should just start a new series on my blog called “The Scarlet Suitcase” and write about all my hot expat hookups. Move over, Carrie Bradshaw! Here comes the hot new millennial column on the block: Sex and the SEA.

I like to think I have more to say about the world than just that, but hey. I’m gonna have to work a lot harder to get content though. I’m re-watching SATC right now and these women are banging a new guy every couple of weeks. I need to step up my game. I’m calling myself a slut after two guys and that’s nothing. We need to get those numbers up. Those are rookie numbers!

I guess I could feel bad, but like… I don’t. I tried. You know? I had a whole spiritual reckoning after the incident with the sports manager guy. I really thought the answer was to agree to marry this random Indian guy I met in Goa, be celibate for a year, and then give my body to him in a special sacred ceremony thing. That did not happen. He left me. So now I’m just like… fuck it, let’s stop treating sex like it’s some special mystical thing and just bang as many hot guys around the world as possible. You know, treat sex the same way men do. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. The End.

Just letting all the ladies out there know that 36 is not too late to have the sexual awakening you feel you missed out on in your early 20’s. It’s never too late!

Meanwhile, there is a guy sitting here in the park at the next table over with a big fluffy cat in an open basket. The cat does not like to come out of the basket. It likes to sit in the basket in the garden in the open air while its owner scrolls through its phone. What a luxurious lifestyle this cat must lead. Every morning they are out here together. It’s a vibe.

Nothing else to say today. I need to start packing. I still haven’t done my laundry. It’s such an inconvenience! I’m never getting a place without a washer ever again. I knew this would be a problem for me and now it is. Ugh. I need to just suck it up and brave the Thai laundromat. I chose to live the Thai lifestyle in a Thai neighborhood. Now I have to do laundry the Thai way. There is no turning back now.

Off now. May your day be as chill as a cat relaxing in a basket in the garden.