Thursday. Finally, a day off to do nothing. Naturally, I am spending it sitting on the terrace at a fabulous cafe, having a glass of wine and eating lunch.

Obviously, my name is already on the waiting list for the pool section. Sure, I could stay at the shala and sit by their pool, or I could sit by a different pool in front of a gorgeous rice patty and drink wine, which I am definitely not allowed to do at the shala. They have a minimum spend rule, which I’ve already met half of just by ordering lunch. It’s not very much, tbh. It comes to about $27 USD. You can probably guess how I plan to make up the rest. Extra side of French fries not included, lol.

The yoga krewe and I have been venturing down to this place quite a bit. Apparently it’s an Instagram tourist hotspot, which is very obvious during the day. Some of us came here last night for a drink. Two of us stayed behind to chat with the general manager. I’m hoping he will appear and let me cut the pool line since he knows me now, lol.

Most of the krewe went to Ubud today, but I didn’t feel like venturing too far out. Plus, I saw a dress in a shop stand down the street that I really wanted, which I am obviously now wearing. It’s burgundy, which is my Scorpio power color. Classy AF. Love it!

I wanted to change into it immediately, so the shopkeeper helped me tie the back. We had a little chat while I was in there. She is from this area and loves being out in rainforest, but she doesn’t like how many tourists have come since the pandemic. She says expats come here to buy up all the land for development and now there is new construction going on all the time. It’s disrupting the natural, peaceful vibe.

I hear her. There are enough hotels and resorts on this island already. Why do we need to destroy more of the rainforest to build even more? More, more, more, me, me, me. My concept, my resort, who cares about the natural world we’re all really here to look at? Greed, greed, greed. More, more, more.

The world around me frustrates me. I don’t know what to do about it. But I do know the solution is not apathy.

It’s so nice to have a day off and just look at the rice patty and write. Finally. Of course, now that I’m here, all I can really do is stare at the empty chair across from me and imagine Andrew is sitting in it talking to me. I have so many stories to write down and all I ever get to come out is Andrew going “Blah blah blah.” Silliness.

Today he asks, “Why don’t you believe me when I say I’m real?”

And I just shrug at him like, “Of course I believe you’re real. I know you’re real. I dream about you all the time. Still, to this day. That’s why I can’t handle being in the same room with you and immediately devolve into a fit of giggles and awkward weirdness. I thought it was obvious?

“Anyway, I don’t know what you expect me to do about it. I’m in Bali and you are… where, again? I deliberately went out of my way to forget after every single person in town felt the need to tell me you were moving. You’re in Oregon, right? Maybe Idaho? Canada, perhaps? Something like that. I don’t really give a fuck. It’s none of my business. I don’t care.

“Sure, I love you with all my heart, but let’s be realistic here. We can’t be together. I am not side piece homewrecker material. Been there, done that. Over it. If you want to be with me, you’re gonna be with me, and you and I will never be. So, yeah, the love is there, but it exists with zero expectation of anything in return. I just send it out into the universe because it’s my vibe. My heart chakra is open. I just love for the sake of love. It’s a lovely feeling. I would rather feel love than anger. Anything but anger.

“So, yeah, sometimes you just have to let the love be and hope you meet a very practical-minded man who will make a good husband and father who you can build a stable home life with instead. It is what it is. Why do you think I agreed to marry the Indian guy? He just put it all out there on the table and I was into it. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out. But it’s okay. Karma came for him in the end. His entire city is underwater right now. They’re experiencing historic floods. That’s what he gets for leaving me alone in Dubai. It’s not funny, but it is karma, so, like, whatever.”

He’s just sitting there staring at me in silence with his face aghast like… why are you like this?

Bitch, I don’t fucking know. I just am. Haven’t you figured this out by now? If you’re gonna make me a Barbie doll, at least put “Neurodivergent Barbie” on the box. She’s a freak of nature no one understands! Yet somehow she’s beautiful just the way she is. Hashtag Flointing.

Weirdly enough, one of my yoga teachers started calling me “Yoga Barbie” around the same time I had the vision. *shrugs again* The weirdness continues. I talk, the universe listens, and then it mirrors it back in the weirdest ways.

Like the British Guy with his weird desire to hang out at an American dive bar. Just like… Wow, what was that? In the end, I’m glad I got rid of him because… wow, icky. Just icky. Men are so ridiculous these days. If I send someone a sexy pic, the correct response is, “Thank you.” Instead I got, and I quote exactly, “I want to choke you and spit on you like the whore you are.”

Yikes on bikes! LOL LIKE WHAT THE FUCK EVEN IS THAT?! Who actually speaks like that in real life to a real person? You literally sound like a fucking serial killer, bro! Literally! Gross. Just gross. I hope the next girl he picks up at the bar hocks a giant loogie directly into his eyeball. Just… gross.

Here I thought I was signing up for The Beatles Experience Live and instead I get Jack the Ripper. Sigh. Now I understand why my family started the Revolutionary War. Just throw that teabag straight into the harbor. DAR FTW.

Anyway, so that was real and that actually happened. And people wonder why I created an imaginary boyfriend to talk to when I’m sad and alone. Have you tried dating real men lately? They’re a fucking mess. Where do they even come up with this crap? It’s like… I can’t even believe that I just wrote that down or that it was a real thing that happened to me. It’s true. I have the screenshots, along with a very artistic, carefully crafted, carefully filtered photograph of my booty, which he clearly was not worthy of.

Oh well. Who cares? I used to be a nude model in college. A lot of people have seen my bare ass. I was just wearing a bikini earlier where the whole thing was just hanging out there for the world to see. It is what it is. Share it around that bar in Bangkok for all I care. There’s like, a zero percent chance I’m ever going back there again.

I pity the poor Thai girl that ends up with him. Hope the money is worth it, girl. Make sure you invest in a solid pair of handcuffs to chain this guy to the bed with so he doesn’t commit violence against you while you’re fucking. Gross. Crazy and gross. And I’m supposed to feel sorry for these oh-so-lonely men? Give me a fucking break. They do it to themselves. I’m over it.

Like literally… don’t call women whores and threaten to spit on them and strangle them and maybe you won’t be so lonely? Sorry you’re a literal, disgusting troglodyte? I’m really not sure what else to say.

At this, Andrew just shakes his head in disbelief and buries his face in his hands. “I can’t believe you’re out here dealing with guys like this and you’re not even calling yourself The Whoremonger. I thought we had a deal.”

I say, “No, you’re The Whoremonger. I’m the Abominable Ho-man, globe-trot international postman, neighbor dick dopeman. 7-1-8’s, 2-0-2’s, I send small cities and states I-O-U’s—“

“Okay, okay, I get it!” he shouts angrily. He crosses him arms and looks away, glaring off into the distance, stewing and simmering in his rage.

C’est la vie! Hopefully the next guy will be slightly less psycho, but my hope fades more and more every day. Apparently, yes, it is too much to ask a man to behave like a respectful human being instead of a fucking barbarian that just discovered fire yesterday. Ugh.

Yeah, I’m only just processing this right now and it’s like… wow, what was that? Crazy, lol. So crazy. All of these men out here are fucking crazy. I don’t even know what to think right now.

Anyway, pretty annoyed I still haven’t made it to the pool and I’m about to order my third glass of wine. Alas. At least this table is quite lovely. Love the people-watching. So many bored, unhappy couples. I swear I think I want a relationship, but when I look around me, all I see are bored, disengaged people who are on their phones ignoring each other. I don’t understand that at all. I always have something new and interesting to discuss at lunch time. My dad raised me this way.

Anyway, half the men keep staring at me in a creepy way while the ladies glare daggers at me. I would like to be excluded from this narrative, please. I am not involved in whatever y’all got going on over there. I’m just here to vibe.

Well, we’ll see if we make it to the pool today. Meh. It’s losing its luster for me now. I’ve already written a post, I’ve met the minimum spend, my table is perfectly nice, I’m enjoying the view, I’m not even going to swim to be honest. I just like to look at the pool, lol. Plus I can hear the sound of chainsaws destroying the rainforest to make way for yet another resort, so… meh. Maybe it’s not worth it after all.

I say this but I’m seeing multiple empty spots by the pool now and I’m like… that’s my spot that I reserved. Why haven’t they called me over yet?

FINALLY! As soon as I wrote that down, they called me over. This spot is perfect. It’s much quieter and has a better view of the rice patty. I definitely felt a little weird going directly from being stared at by half the men in the restaurant to stripping down to my bikini right in front of them, but it’s whatever. Enjoy the show, I guess?

I love this bikini, btw. I got in Thailand. It looks like the one Honey Ryder is wearing in Dr. No. I was very inspired by Hong Kong, lol. Anyway, I do miss shopping in Thailand. All of the clothes actually fit me and the fabrics are generally better quality. The shopkeepers kept saying, “You Thai girl size!” and just pulled exactly what I needed. Shopping for clothes was the only thing I liked about Thailand, lol. That and the abundance of weed.

Nothing fits me properly in the States. All the clothes are made for giant people. It’s impossible to find pants that actually fit. There is an active campaign of size discrimination against petite women and I am here to call it out for what it is. Plus, the quality of textiles across the board is absolutely garbage. Asia is sending us our recycled trash right back and I’m kind of here for it, tbh. Hashtag karma!

Hmm. Nothing to write about anymore. Going to relax by the rice patty and listen to the sound of chainsaws destroying the rainforest to make room for more resorts we don’t need. This is definitely my FernGully moment.

Have a lovely day not being in Bali, lol!