Tuesday.

Rainy day. Stayed at home today. I am obsessed with this new instant coffee I bought. Indocafe. So good. Best instant coffee I’ve had in Asia so far, except for that rare mocha brand I got in Thailand once and then never saw ever again. Tragic. Truly tragic.

I need to clean my studio again today. I live in a very tiny little box. Things get disorganized quickly. I am not cleaning, however. I am writing and watching Pretty Woman on Netflix. LOL!

I’m definitely using this movie to measure my date with The Russian. So far, he has failed on multiple accounts. Obviously, there was the bathtub situation. In addition, he did not take me to dinner. He convinced me to skip dinner and go straight to the Red Room with him. How did I allow this man to completely steamroll over my boundaries? Ugh. Can you even believe that shit? How did I let him convince me to skip dinner?

Stingy.

Maybe we thought there would be food at the MO? Then there wasn’t. They gave us some pathetically small snack tray with olives and three cashews and salt & vinegar crisps. Then he wouldn’t let me raid the mini bar. Again, stingy.

What is the point of staying at a luxury hotel if you’re not going to raid the mini bar? Hello! They have room service and champagne and fancy chocolate and a gigantic bathtub with a speciality bath salt & oil mix and extra terry cloth robes and super soft towels.

And now you’re telling me you don’t want to actually take advantage of all of this after luring me in here with the promise of enjoying all of this? Do you even know how to have fun, bro, or do you only know how to suffer?

Ridiculous.

I’m never going to psychologically recover from this date. Ugh. Why did I do this to myself? Oh, right, so I could spend the next three months stewing over it and picking every little detail apart on the page so I would have material to write about on a rainy day.

He said, “Don’t fall in love with me.” He did not say, “Don’t obsess over me and turn me into a literary character.”

Anyway, the hotel room in the movie is actually pretty tacky. Pink carpet in the bathroom? Ew! All of it is just… yikes. Tacky. How much is he paying per night to stay in that penthouse suite? And it looks like that? I would change hotels right away, especially if I caught the staff talking about me like that.

That pink carpet is so distracting. It’s like… it’s trying to go for the “Oriental” theme, but the pink carpet is just… it’s so distracting. It doesn’t look right at all. Why? Can you even imagine how gross that carpet is? I can’t focus on anything else in this movie right now.

Hates it! Good balcony, tho. Love a good balcony. Essential real estate wishlist item.

There’s also a gigantic reddish pink velvet couch that matches the carpet. Oh my god! It’s awful. This is the perfect distraction right now. I literally can’t even.

Don’t even get me started on the outfits. I can’t. I just can’t.

I am also distracted by the fact that Julia Roberts has been living with this guy at a fancy hotel, presumably with a spa, for an entire week and still hasn’t had her eyebrows waxed. Was that just the style back then? Or is that done on purpose to show she’s low-class? Girl, what is you doing? Go get those cleaned up. Just put it on his tab!

LOL at these blue velvet drum chairs at the bar. What is this room? Why is the bedroom powder pink with pink bedding that matches the couch and the carpet?

Oh, I’m not watching this movie at all. I am fully focused on the hotel decor in the background. It’s definitely giving “Mandarin Oriental x Barbie” LOL. I think maybe this guy really did watch this movie on the plane…

I’m pretty sure all of the furniture came from Hong Kong. I see tables and chairs like that in store fronts all the time. That is definitely the style. The plants, the paintings, the lamps, the vases, the cabinets, all of it. It’s all Hong Kong. Wild.

I looked up the filming locations. It says the hotel lobby and exterior are from the Regent Beverly Wilshire in Beverly Hills and the hotel room is a set. That explains everything.

Aww, they’re so cute together.

Anyway, I also re-watched 365 Days the other night, which was hilarious. I laughed the entire time. That movie is just really funny. I don’t know why. It’s probably because the first I watched it, I was on magic mushrooms. Now I just laugh at how absurd it is. Like when they go down into the dungeon where he has that big portrait of himself with the lion head. I just laugh at that image alone for like 20 minutes. Men are so ridiculous! I think it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Like, who does that?

I have so many questions. First and most important: was this a commission? Is it a photograph? Is it a painting? Did he sit for that portrait? Was there a live lion there with him at the time? Was it added in later at his request? Was that part of the original concept? Did he come up with that idea all by himself? Was it a suggestion? Even worse, was it a gift from someone else?

Do you think The Russian has a giant picture of himself wrestling a lion on his wall? Maybe. He might. Those guys do stuff like that. That’s why Vladimir Putin is always posting pictures of himself fighting lions and tigers and bears, oh my! The whole point is to show off how big and strong and manly they are.

Do you think my Russian has ever wrestled a bear? He is very tall and I found his Hyrox stats on Google. I think he could probably take on a bear. I have full confidence he would win. No problem. I would watch this fight on TV.

He’s really missing out right now by not reading this, don’t you think? He’s giving new life to our Feminist Man vs. Bear debate. I pose to you a new question: why not both?

Hey, wait, didn’t I say I wanted a guy on my Island who could wrestle a crocodile? Yes! Yes, I did say that! And whadayaknow? Along comes this Russian guy who actually does literally have a photograph of himself on his Facebook sitting on top of a crocodile with a harness, riding it as if it is a horse. This is real. I am not making this up. He really did wrestle the crocodile into submission.

Okay, I guess I don’t need an Aussie guy anymore. My Island is complete after all. In hindsight, I do think a Russian is better. They’re pretty tough. They know how to survive the Siberian winters. Very useful skillset, as I learned when I lived in the frozen tundra that is South Dakota.

I’m sure he would appreciate the fact that I actually took the time look over his CV and evaluate his skillset before going out on a real date with him. I didn’t “cancel him for being a big strong alpha male.” I gave him a real chance. Mostly because he fulfills the following very shallow list of requirements:

—Must be able to wrestle large, wild, exotic animals.

—Must be able to drive a motorcycle. You know, in case we need to make a quick escape from said large, wild, exotic animals.

—Must be able to afford a stay in 5-star luxury hotels once we have left the dangers of the jungle behind us on the motorcycle.

—Must look good in a leather jacket while doing it all.

Grand.

Yes, yes, I see how this all unfolded now. The heart wants what it wants. Sometimes the universe puts it in front of us, only to snatch it away again. Such is the lesson of the Russian: life is pain and sadness and cold. Love is temporary. Pain is forever. That is why we drink all the pain away, preferably with vodka. The end.

Hahahahaha!

Oh, I live for this. I could do this all day. Let’s see what they have on Netflix for Russian Love Stories, LOL! Spoiler Alert: They all end with someone dead in the snow and their lover left all alone in the cold.

Ugh, the algorithm didn’t give me anything. Netflix search is so useless lately. You can type in literally anything and it will give you the same 10 movies it’s already recommending on the main feed. Why am I paying so much money for this?

Alas, there is nothing to feed the obsession. I have no choice but to abandon this post and tidy up my studio. I see what they did there. Pain. More pain. All pain. Everything in this life is pain. Whyyyyy!!!!

All of this is just to distract me from reality right now. I was waitlisted for the professional conference I applied for here in HK, but offered a work-trade yoga gig in Cambodia, of all the places. It is not “paid,” but it does come with my own tiny house, two meals a day, a doggo friend, a scooter to ride to the yoga studio, and an exciting adventure in a brand new place I’ve never been to before.

So now I have a decision to make. Take a gamble and stay in HK, or pack my bags and head out on my own solo jungle adventure?

Hmmm… what to do, what to do?

Decisions, decisions.

The only decision I’m making right now is the decision to have a snack. I’m not eating enough, I know it. I need something more substantial than crackers and cheese, lol.

Off now. Hope you enjoyed this post. Have a nice day!