Thursday. November 13. Not my favourite day. It’s complicated. It’s my mom’s birthday and the day my dad died. Sucks to suck.

So far the day had been off to a pretty rough start. I got my period yesterday, which is good because it means I will not have a Mamma Mia: Thailand Edition on my hands. That itself is good news, but doesn’t change the fact that I don’t feel well at all.

Then there was a massive storm that came through, which kept me up all night. Then I made a 7-11 run at about 4am during a break in said storm where I uncharacteristically loaded up on a variety of chocolate snacks. I finally went back to bed at about 6 or 7am, then woke up again a few short hours later feeling not great. Definitely had a mini meltdown, then changed my clothes and came here.

Now I am sitting here feeling like chocolate-filled garbage, but extremely grateful that I am not preggo with a half English or half Irish baby, or any baby whatsoever. Well, I guess technically it would be a 3/4 Irish baby. No, wait, that’s not right. You know what? Let’s not even get into the blood quantum question. That’s not a place I want to go today, or ever, really.

Time to take a break from dating! Like, okay, cool, got the self-esteem up. Now what? Uh, try taking care of the career and finance house. Repeat after me: a man is not a plan. I am the rich man. I am a strong independent woman who don’t need no mans.

I literally have no idea what I’m doing with my life. Ugh. Just taking some time to rest in the moon camp before I start all over again, again.

I am so exhausted today. Wow. It’s not even funny. I just want to climb back into bed, curl up in my blankets, eat takeout, and watch Emily in Paris. Just go full-in on the traditional Moon Camp-style bed rot. Cleanse all that toxic male energy from my system. Hell yeah.

Some days I still can’t believe I finally escaped from South Dakota. It still doesn’t feel real. I’m living in frickin’ Asia and it doesn’t feel real. Crazy. I’ve never, ever in my life been away from my family or home for this long before. It’s like I’m still trying to process the fact that all of this is real and I’m finally free to just be myself and live my life as I choose.

I just have no idea how to choose. I feel like I always choose wrong. I don’t even know how to begin choosing what’s right. I guess I’ll just keep throwing darts at the board until one of them hits the bull’s eye.

What am I doing with my life? I have no idea. Going home to eat chocolate and rot in bed. Then maybe get my life together? We’ll see.

Today feels like the perfect excuse to continue my search for the best mac n cheese in Bangkok. I haven’t found a good one yet. That’s because nothing can compare to my secret homemade Creole-inspired recipe I invented last year.

I actually kind of miss cooking. I don’t like cooking for myself. My brother and I took turns cooking when we lived together and then always had dinner together. It’s better when there’s someone else there. No worries. It’s just like riding a bike. I have all my favourite comfort dish recipes stored right up here in my head. I can bust them out any time.

I should learn how to cook Thai while I’m here. Why waste the opportunity? Add that to my Trad Wife CV. These guys are so dumb, lol. They don’t even know my mom was like Martha Stewart IRL. I know how to cook. I can give massages and do yoga therapy. I’m great in bed. I look ten years younger than I actually am. I dress well. I love adventures. I can converse on any topic. I’m a real lady. And! I can play pool.

They’re the ones who are missing out, not me.

Take British Guy for example. He said he is very conservative and wants a traditional wife. However, he has settled for a woman who does not cook for him or have sex with him on a regular basis. He just gives her money to take care of her daughter that is not even his. He is getting straight-up water buffalo’d, yet he is out here talking down to me and disrespecting me. Fuck you, bro. You get exactly what you deserve. Why build a relationship and a home with someone on your level when you can just financially control and exploit someone you see as beneath you? Ugh.

In the end, I’m glad this random Irish Guy was there at the moment to sweep me up in his big, muscular arms and carry me away from this terrible British Guy. It was quite liberating on a deep, spiritual level, actually. I definitely felt like he was freeing me from an oppressive entity, for certain. Being with the Irish Guy in that specific context was definitely a very unique experience I will not soon forget.

When I look back now, I understand what happened better. British Guy made me feel like everything I was and had worked for would never be good enough. I was always going to be beneath him no matter what. I felt like I had to fight to earn his respect, but he was never going to give it to me.

Irish Guy made me feel like… it is what it is. This is me. This is my heritage. This is myself. We’ve been trying to get rid of these oppressive assholes for hundreds of years specifically because they make us feel this way. Like, I am enough the way I am. I am a good woman I deserve better than this. All of this. Better than the British Guy, better than Andrew, better than Hos in Different Area Codes. Like it’s totally fine to just be me and the right person will come along.

I mean, I literally didn’t even try with him. I was not trying to pick him up. I thought I was just being funny even though I was drunk. I thought he didn’t like me at all. I thought he didn’t find me trustworthy. I thought he was annoyed by how emotional I was getting over the British Guy with every beer.

And then it turns out I was wrong. This whole night I was just out there being my 100% true and honest self and by the end of it he was like, “This chick needs to be liberated. Let’s take her home and blow everything up and totally shake her to the core, then disappear forever and leave her in the company of her new Irish family to guide her through this strange, new experience.”

Okay, that’s great, I just didn’t appreciate the part where he dumped me off back at home and dipped out to go home to his wife. He should have told me he was going to do that up-front instead of letting me get all gooey-eyed over him for two hours. Ugh. The male ego knows no bounds.

Whatever. Lesson learned. Team No One. Forget it all ever happened, start over fresh, go on a cleanse, and use my 10×10 Plan to find a new job. Build a new website. Extend my visa. Get my shit together.

I am out here in the world now. This is my life. I get to choose now. So let’s choose… choose to get something done today instead of caving into the bed rot.

Off now. Such low energy today…

Then again, it is a very traumatic day…