Saturday morning. Sitting at the coffee stand with my Hong Kong Housekeeper. It’s a vibe. I like to sit with her whenever she is here. Sometimes we talk. I tell her whatever gossip I have or about the dates I’ve been on. Other times we say nothing at all. We sit in silence and enjoy each other’s company. Both of us feel much less lonely this way. The dynamic feels very natural to me. I am grateful she is here to look after me.

Yesterday I ran all my errands, then went to the Pot Shop to pick up my groceries. The Sardinian came in and we ended up getting drunk together. I can tell he likes me a lot. Meanwhile, I just want to take a break from men altogether.

He said, “I don’t like these people you are hanging out with at the bar across the street.”

“Yeah, I thought it might be a good idea to take a break from the Irish Mafia for a night.”

I meant it as a joke, but he looked at me quite seriously and said, “So you come hang out with the Italian Mafia instead. Good choice. It is better. We can get a pizza. You tell them they can fuck with us.”

I sat with his words for a moment before I finally understood why the vibe was always so weird whenever he was around. Once again, I felt like a naive little girl who had stepped into something she didn’t understand.

“I’m not telling anyone anything. Don’t put me in the middle of whatever this is.”

I promptly drank a bunch of beers and forgot about it until later when I checked my Instagram. I posted a video of myself and The Sardinian together on my stories. There was a message from my Irish Minder in response. I did not understand the comment he made, but I could tell the tone was not very polite. Again, I asked him not to put me in the middle of whatever their beef was. This one is known to get into many fights. Meanwhile I’m just over here trying to play Peacekeeper at the United Nations meeting. I don’t want to be involved. I’m a lover, not a fighter. I’m perfectly happy to sit here and write poetry about my Hot Beef Stew.

My Irish Minder wanted to know if I was fucking The Sardinian Guy. I said no, I am not. We are just friends. He is not the type I prefer to sleep with. I told him I am still working through my fixation with the Irish Guy. I am not fixating on the person because I do not know anything about him and no one will give me any information, so I am fixating on Ireland and Irish culture in general instead. I said I had been fixating on the British Guy for two months prior before Irish Guy stole my attention away. Now I have to channel the new fixation into an appropriate place, like Wikipedia articles and re-watching the House of Guinness.

My Irish Minder is up in Chiang Mai right now. He is still all up in my business every day. I wonder how much he is getting paid to look after me. It’s such a weird feeling. It’s like in Queen Charlotte when she is given her Royal Minder who follows her EVERYWHERE and she cannot ever escape him. That’s exactly what it feels like right now. Whenever I turn around, he’s always there watching me. He’s quite open about it too. He’s like, “Yep, I’m watching you, but I’m not telling you who I’m working for.” I think we both know who he is working for. I know I have my theory. There’s only one person I know who would be interested in collecting CCTV footage of himself in an elevator with me…

I came home pretty early last night since we were daydrinking, which is technically illegal in Thailand. You can’t actually buy alcohol during the daytime at 7-11. You have to be in a bar. Even then, it is frowned upon. Most people prefer to drink the kratom tea. I myself do not, as we all know.

I stumbled home and went on an Instagram follow spree in my drunken stupor. I don’t even know who I followed. I just imagined myself walking down Main Street in Vermillion and I followed every single character I saw on the street. It was actually sort of fun. A very nice exercise in love and forgiveness. I must evolve past my anger towards this place and these people. I wrote a book about it. I must learn to accept it as part of my story and part of my journey. It is what it is.

Unfortunately, my Indian ex managed to slip through and get into my DMs last night. He is begging me to come back. I know he is full of shit. He went on some rant about how I shouldn’t be in Thailand and I need to leave because it’s a horrible place and come be his wife-slave in India. I’m like… no, bro. I don’t want that. I don’t want you. I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. You fucked up big time when you left me alone in Dubai. You can’t come back from that. So just let it go already.

I told him I’ve been with other men so hopefully that will be a major deterrent for him. Hopefully. Somehow I doubt it though. He has a pretty strong fixation with me. I’m trying to work out how to resolve it in a respectful way since blocking him did not do the job. I’ve been in this headspace before where I have the fixation on an inappropriate person. Speaking from experience, I know that blocking someone does not get rid of the fixation. I don’t know what the solution is. I just keep repeating the same thing over and over again.

Life is too complicated. I need to find a new job and take my mind off of all of it. Just gotta stop being lazy. Always lazy. So lazy. Can’t be lazy much longer or I’ll be out on the street. Not that the street is such a bad place to be in Thailand. It’s so chill out here. Nobody gives a fuck. It’s awesome. It’s so inspiring. I’ve given so many fucks for so long. Now I’m learning how to not give any. What a great experience.

Off now. The weather is finally nice so I want to find an outdoor spot to do yoga in. I have not been doing any yoga. I have only been eating and drinking beer. I am gaining weight and I can see it. I have lost my hot yoga body to laziness. Time to get back in the game…