Sunday night. Currently chillin in Ubud after a terrible day. I just had to get out of the shala and away from everyone. I definitely plan to wake up tomorrow morning bright and early and just try again with the Aerial. I don’t know what else I’m going to do. That’s what I came here to do, so that’s what I’m going to do.

I thought about going to the cacao ceremony with the Krewe, but the music they played in the taxi on the way to the city was too Andrew-adjacent for me. It was driving me up the fucking wall. I literally just leapt right out of the car as soon as it stopped and ran in the opposite direction of the vegan cafe as fast as I could. I just had to get away before I had a literal panic attack. I was not okay.

Ended up wandering down the street a ways and found a random book store. Picked up a random book from the Gratuit stand to get some spiritual advice, something I do often. It was also too Andrew-adjacent for my taste, so I put the book down and kept wandering down this random side street.

A random statue of Ganesha drew me in. Literally. I swear to god… when I first looked at it, its eyes were closed. When I walked towards it and looked up, its eyes were suddenly wide open and it was staring right into my soul. It was freaky as fuck. So I gave it an offering and just sat in front of it for awhile.

The courtyard it was in was peaceful. I realized later that it was probably some random person’s front yard and not a temple, but the lady who was out in the garden didn’t really seem to mind. She was smiling at me every time she walked by. Like, “Oh, usually you tourists wander around cluelessly until you realize you’re in someone’s house. You’re just sitting here communing with the statue. That’s nice. Just leave an offering and you’re good.”

I left a pen with the USD logo on it as an offering. He is the god of writing, after all. I didn’t really ask for anything in return. I just thought, “Here, take this pen.” The god seemed very pleased. He keeps asking me if I want anything in return, but I just say I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. How can I ask for something when I don’t know what to ask for? I guess I’ve just been feeling all day like I’ve lost my ability to believe in anything. So just sitting there with this statue of a Hindu god that opened its eyes for me was enough to make me believe in something again, even if it was just for the moment.

I continued on walking down the street for awhile. Eventually I ended up turning onto a street with an actual sidewalk, which I was extremely grateful for. I was able to just take a walk and relax without constantly dodging traffic, which I really, really fucking needed today. The sidewalk led me straight to an Afro beats cafe, which I was also extremely grateful for. There’s nothing I love more in this world than Afro beats. I got the double mojito happy hour deal just for myself and the spiciest chicken sandwich with the spiciest sauce. It is decidedly NOT vegan. The protein deficiency is strong with this one. I can feel the difference on days when I don’t have it. That shit is real AF.

Then they brought out both mojitos at once, so I was just like, “Okay, challenge accepted. Now I am sitting here listening to chill Afro beats, which definitely do not remind me of Andrew at all (because my musical taste is predates his existence by about a thousand trips to the Kennedy Center with my dad) and writing and watching the traffic pass by.

They seriously need to do something about the traffic problem here. It’s out of control. Some streets should straight up be just for walking and others should be just for cars, bikes, and buses. Also, where are the speed limits? Ugh.

I almost got nailed by a cab that just decided to speed past everyone today when I was walking back from the mart down the street. All I thought about in that moment was the girl who carries the food to the shala for every meal on a giant tray from the house down the street. She puts her life in danger five times a day for us and no one else even knows or cares. It’s just not right.

This is why people are protesting, okay? Government corruption. Where the fuck is all the tourism money going if not to build better roads? The answer? Straight into the politicians’ pockets. It’s ridiculous. I just can’t even. Burn it all to the fucking ground. I’m on board with it all.

Meanwhile, back in the U.S., wow. Just fucking wow. Every day it just gets more and more absurd. I’ve been over it for awhile. Somebody get the fucking guillotine. I can’t even with this shit anymore. Now we’re declaring war on Chicago? Are you fucking kidding me? LOL, that is literally treason. It’s treason. I’m over it. I’m done. Get the fuck out of here right now.

And what are people over there doing? Sitting on their asses just watching it all happen live on TV. Lol. I can’t. Burn it all to the ground. I’m over it.

I asked my brother how the war on Chicago is going since he lives there now. He sent me back a meme of the scene from Star Wars: A New Hope with the droids riding around in the sandcrawler on Tatooine with house music dubbed over it. Perfect. Lol!

He’s playing a gig tonight. I’m so happy for him. Finally, he’s out of that fucking shithole and around real people who he can properly vibe with again. Now he’s thriving. I’m so happy for him. I don’t regret staying with him to support him till he graduated at all. We are so close now. I’m so grateful every single day my brother is still alive. I seriously thought he was going to die. But he didn’t. He survived and he’s been sober for like 5 years and now he’s finally getting to be his true self. I’m so happy every day to see him doing well.

Just finished my sandwich and it was amazing. Not as spicy as I expected. Still delicious anyway. Please, Lord Ganesha, do not let me get Bali Belly from this experience. Please let all the vaccines I got before I went to India save me from any unpleasant stomach issues. This is all I ask for on this evening. Thank you in advance.

Again, where is all the tourism money going if not to clean up the water supply so no one has to deal with Bali Belly? Ugh. It’s gross. I can see it in the server’s eyes as she’s watching people on the streets. If all these people are walking around with their big ol’ money bags, why isn’t she getting a cut of it? Why does she have to work this shit job and go home to a house with dirty water and buy water polluted with microplastics in bottles by the dozen just for that trash to go straight into the ocean when there’s more than enough money to go around? It’s bullshit.

All I can say is… girl, I hear you. I see you. And let me tell you, being a server fucking sucks. It’s the worst job I’ve ever had. Between serving, bartending, and barista-ing, I’ll choose bartending every time. People are more respectful to you when you’re holding their addiction over them. That’s just a fact. Serving is like being the orangutan they dress up in baby clothes at the Safari Park in Thailand for people to take photos with. It’s just a big song and dance for what amounts to table scraps. I fucking hated that shit. Never again.

That aside, I love the vibe here. I’m taking up the whole couch in the corner because I’m the Queen. Everyone else in here is in a couple. All I see are couples everywhere. So many couples. I clearly need to choose my next stay carefully, lest I end up the only single woman in a resort full of couples who all look super bored with each other and spend the whole dinner on their phones. That is definitely one of my worst nightmares.

The woman in the couple across the way is constantly applying lip gloss and spritzing herself with body splash. Her boyfriend is still locked into his phone. Girl, speaking as a former Sales Associate for both B&BW and VS, less is more. If I can smell you across the room, which I can, you’re wearing too much. Also, there is a hookah right next to you and I can still smell your body splash. Too much. It’s too much! A dab on each wrist and a dab on the neck is enough. You’re not trying to attract every man in the room. You just want to the one in front of you intrigued enough to lean in closer.

Ask me how I know.

Currently debating if I should stay here for another drink or go to a spa. I’m not sure I want or need any more “therapies” right now. I just want to listen to some Afro beats and vibe. Sometimes that’s the only medicine you need. Especially for me, today. I just need this vibe right here, right now. I’m not trying to fix myself. I’m not trying to solve the world’s problems. I’m just trying to listen to my favourite radio station alone.

Send me to West Africa, fam. It’s a vibe.

Maybe I’ll get an order of shisha. I usually prefer to share, but I also don’t have to smoke the whole thing. I used to go to a “hookah bar” in NOVA when I was in high school, which is how I was introduced to the concept. In case you don’t know, the hookah is the pipe, the shisha is the tobacco blend they put in the pipe. I mean, but you know, you can put other things in the hookah, which I have definitely done before.

Random aside, but I don’t personally recommend smoking marijuana with a hookah. That’s just me. I did that one time and it was probably the most fucked up I’ve ever been on weed alone. I literally got up from the table without saying anything, walked around the outside of my friend’s house, came in through the front door, walked through the entire house, came out the back door, and sat back down at the table. Then I looked up at my friends, who were all staring at me with wide eyes and open mouths and said, “Did I just go somewhere?”

Never again, lol.

Hahaha, oh, good times. Good times indeed. I did not appreciate my youth enough while it lasted. I miss NOVA sometimes. I really do. But I also know it’s mostly rooted in nostalgia. It’s not like I can afford a house in my old neighborhood, lol. Anyway, it’s not the same as it was. They’re on a mission to ruin the vibe.

Not gonna lie, the seating here could be better. It’s not very comfortable. Oh well. I still like the vibe anyway.

Meh. Not really vibing with the hookah. Just gonna get one more drink and go back to the shala. Wake up and try again tomorrow. That’s all I can really do.

I mean, really, I can’t just be defeated by a nightmare about Andrew. That’s fucking pathetic. That’s not me. That’s not who I am. I’m not giving up my dream of flying for that piece of shit. I’m getting up tomorrow and I’m trying again. Motivated AF.

The End.