Tuesday. Lunar New Year. Mardi Gras! Happy holidays!

I am wearing a special outfit I got from India today. It is red and white gold. Very beautiful. Perfect for the New Year.

I did not think the coffee shop would be open today, but it is. I admit I was actually on my way to the American Bar for some good old fashioned Bangkok degenerate daydrinking, but I decided to stop here for my daily iced mocha and write first. We must catch up on yesterday’s events before we go out and collect more stories.

Yesterday was… interesting. I decided to go to the pot shop and day drink, which was a mistake because my friend called me around 7pm and asked me to meet him at the American Bar. I know better than to mix daytime and nighttime drinking in Thailand, but I ignored my better instincts and did it anyway. It ended with me getting sick and running home and forgetting to pay my tab, which is why I was on my way to said bar to fix the situation.

Anyway, before all of that happened, I went to meet my friend, who is Irish. I have mentioned him on here before. I call him The Moose because he is obsessed with his Canadian Girl who left him long ago. He always likes to talk about how much land he has back home in Ireland. I learned recently that this means he is flirting with me. This is how Irish men flirt, apparently. They constantly talk about how much land they have.

He is also friends with the Hot Beef Stew. I tried to ignore this fact so I could be at peace and just let the whole situation go, but he brought it up! I had to sit there and sip my drink to hide my excitement when he mentioned his name.

The Moose said, “Well, you know we were here a couple weeks back. He was asking on about you.”

Really? He was asking on about me? I must sit perfectly still and pretend I have not secretly been dying to hear this exact sentence for the last three months. Keep it together, Betsey. Just play it cool.

“Yeah, he wanted to know what kind of person I thought you were. I said I thought you were really cool. You’re just the kind of person people have to get to know first.”

“Oh, thank you. I thought you were going to say that I was crazy.”

“You’re not crazy, you’re just Irish. Very Irish. You don’t even know how Irish you are. I feel sorry for you because you don’t know anything about it at all. You don’t know your own people. You’ve never been to your homeland. You don’t know who you are at all. That’s very sad to me.”

“Right, yeah, I know all that, but what did he say about me?”

“He agreed with me.”

“Yes, well, he would, wouldn’t he? He got to know me quite well that evening. Got to hear the whole story and see the whole spectrum of emotion that comes with it. And then some. Ha ha.”

“We didn’t like what you were saying about us Irish guys though.”

“Oh, don’t be too upset about that. It’s not just Irish guys. Trust me. I’ve dated men from all over the world and all of them are the same. I think it’s just a problem with men in general.”

“I believe you.”

“Anyway, I’m not dating right now. I am looking for purpose, meaning, and fulfillment outside of a relationship. I am focusing on myself instead.”

And not-so-secretly obsessing over your friend, of course. Obviously.

“Are you going to go back to Hong Kong?”

“Well, I have to because I put my luggage into storage there, but I don’t think I will stay. It’s a money issue. I have no job or income or apartment. I have no purpose there. I have no purpose anywhere. I think I will just go bum around the beach for a month and then go take another Yoga Teacher Training course in India.”

“That makes sense. You hated Hong Kong. You wrote to me every day.”

“I didn’t hate it, I was just very lonely there. I wrote to a lot of people every day. I keep regular correspondence with quite a few of my friends. It’s not limited just to you. Don’t feel like you’re special in any way.”

“I don’t. We all know how much you like your conquests.”

“I don’t go out conquesting anymore. Your friend took all the fun out of it for me.”

Because he lied about being married, then shamed me for acting like a ‘slut,’ as if I was the one who was doing something wrong by being there.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No you’re not.”

“You’re right. I’m not.”

The conversation turned away from this subject and returned to all things Irish. The Hot Beef Stew did not come up again, even though I had a million questions and was dying to ask them all. I told myself I would not feed my own obsessive compulsion and refrained from saying anything at all. I just let my friend talk about his huge tracts of land back in Ireland and speculate how many millions they might be worth. Meanwhile, I stared off into space at the wall behind him, continuing to stew over the Stew.

At some point he had to leave. That was when I started feeling really sick and had to run home. Now I have to go in today and make sure my tab is paid. Hate it when that happens.

Still have no idea what I am doing with my life beyond that. It’s okay! I’ll figure it out! Somehow?

The only thing I’ve figured out is that I want a grilled cheese sandwich. Good thing I have to go pay my tab…

That is all for today. We shall see what else develops as the week continues on…