Tuesday.

I was so sick all day yesterday. I don’t know if it was something I ate or the amount I drank, or if it was too much in a short span of time. I had stomach issues all weekend and then yesterday I just couldn’t get out of bed at all. It’s better today but I definitely already made a trip to the 7-11 to re-up on the Vitamin C/D/Zinc magical mixture that seems to cure most of my stomach problems.

I still don’t feel great, but I have stuff to get done today. For example, my apartment has fallen into disrepair because I went out four days in a row after barely leaving at all. It’s pretty easy to tidy up because it’s so small, but some effort is still required there. I just look around the room right now and think to myself, “Ugh, this HAS to get done today or the rest of the week will be completely shot in terms of productivity.”

Meanwhile, I did not account for Sunday, so I must do that now.

I started off my Sunday with the intention of making a bad life choice. Luckily for me, I did not make that choice. Instead, I went to my favourite brunch spot and wrote a little bit. Then I went up to the Secret Society to socialize.

Originally I intended it to be my “warm-up” so I would feel more comfortable making this bad decision, but by the time I got there, it was already too late. I thought about it too much and decided not to wander on back down the path of no return. What’s the point? What is all this for? It’s just… not worth it to me anymore.

Instead I chose to stay at the Secret Society and see who showed up on that particular day. My Irish friend stopped in for about 5 minutes to chat with me. My British Banker Uncle stopped in, ordered a drink, disappeared somewhere in the back, then re-appeared a short while later looking very, very happy. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and a hug and then left. No other explanation other than that. Didn’t even take his second drink on the BOGO Happy Hour deal. Weird.

Who else was there?

There was some super weird South African guy who was definitely married, definitely wearing tropical swim trunks, and definitely giving sleazy AF vibes right from the moment he saw me. I could tell he was going to be a problem because I caught him STARING at me multiple times before he finally moved in, as I knew he eventually would. He led with “I lived in Phuket for 4 years. I miss Thailand so much. I lived like a King when I was there. Now I have to live here in Hong Kong because of my family. Ugh! I like my kids, but not my wife. What about you?”

Ugh, gross! I instantly got the ick. The way men talk about their trips to Thailand should forever be put on the “Dating Red Flag” list. The things that I saw when I was there… unforgettable in every way. Ewwwww.

Anyway, so he was being annoying, but luckily this other banker I know and his wife showed up to rescue me. This guy would be the one who initially confronted me about being a writer and sitting in there watching people. He’s pretty chill, his wife is pretty chill, whatever.

As I said, I find these Finance Peeps to be pretty fun to hang out with in general. I don’t know why. It doesn’t really make sense. I guess maybe it’s because I get to be special and different, as opposed to hanging out with other creatives who are all special and different too?

Whatever…

Let’s see… who else…

There was a British couple in there that stopped by while on vacation. The wife was a teacher and had lived in four different countries, including the UAE. I thought she was really interesting to talk to. I enjoyed hearing her stories about her various experiences.

She mentioned that she “lived in New Haven, Connecticut.” The bartender, who lived in NYC once upon a time and is naturally a very straight-shooter, gave her a look and said, “Soooo you went to Yale.”

The lady looked down and blushed a little and said, “Yeah, it’s just a small school, ya know?”

Hahahaha.

The bartender and I were both very amused by this. It’s an East Coast thing. My dad would do the same thing. He would be like, “I lived in Cambridge.” Oh, so you went to Harvard? “Yeah, it’s just a small school. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

Ivy Leaguers. They are what they are, lol.

Ah, this leads me into my next character. I went outside for a cigarette after the room had cleared. This old man with a very thick Scottish accent walked right up to me outside and said, “Are you from Paris? I met a French woman once from Paris. She liked to smoke cigarettes too. I would always say to her, ‘Hey baby, can you blow some smoke in my face.’ So whaddaya say? Hey baby, will you blow some smoke in my face?”

I just started laughing right in his face. Like, what? This dude had to be in his 70’s or 80’s. Just ZERO filter. Hilarious! There was also something weirdly poetic and rehearsed about it, so I marked him down mentally as I watched him limp on inside the bar.

Later he came back outside and approached me again. He asked me what I do. I told him I’m a writer. He stopped and looked me up and down and said, “You know I’m a writer too. I’ve been publishing for 50 years. I’ve traveled all over the world. I’m on my way to teach a class over in Canada right now.”

He told me his name is Ian, but I have not found his work yet. He would not tell me his last name. He said it will be more fun for me if I have to guess. So, since I don’t usually use real names, I will make an exception here, because I have no further information than this.

Then he sat down and proceeded to give me ALL the professional writing career advice. I would say the majority of it is still relevant. He was big on the MFA path, which is unusual to hear. Usually the MFA students I meet are really fucking bitter about their experiences and say a lot of negative things. It was refreshing to hear someone said, “I had a positive experience at my MFA program. It benefitted me a lot. I have a successful career now as a writer because of it.”

He was also big on the “patronage/grant/outside funding” thing. He was explaining all of the ways to get money from people to support my creative goals. Then he looked at me and said, “You’ve been living in Hong Kong for almost a year now and you still haven’t found yourself a rich banker to take care of you? You need to get on that.”

Oh, right, as if it’s so easy in this day and age to just go out on a whim and find a random man who isn’t already dating/engaged/living with/married to someone else. Gee, thanks, Grandpa. Never thought of that one. Nope, not once did it ever occur to me to find a rich husband to support my creative career goals.

Haha, just kidding. It has occurred to me many times. It’s just that it’s hard to find someone who is single, attractive, and willing to tolerate me on my bad days. Most of them just don’t have the emotional intelligence required to understand someone like me. It is what it is.

I would say most people in general lack the emotional intelligence to understand anyone with complex trauma. I would say most people are very surface level. They don’t like dealing with complex ideas, people, or situations. If they can’t understand it in the same amount of time it takes to watch a TikTok, then they’re out. The lack of empathy for others in this world is very real.

I’m just at a point where I understand myself to accept myself for who I am in this moment and love her anyway. Sure, my goal in general is to be healthy and happy. I’m very invested in that project. However, some days are still really bad for me. For example, I get very emotional over my dead daddy issues. I wish I had someone to talk to about it, but I don’t. I just have to find ways to deal with it, like yoga and hiking the Peak, and writing in my blog, and getting drunk and singing and dancing on the rooftop.

Summarizing this point: look at my neighbor. He has complained to me multiple times about volume control. I get this, but he went too far on this, and this is why I’m mad at him. Instead of just leaving his complaint at that, he felt the need to address some of the things he could hear me saying to myself, to the camera, to my iPad, and give me what he thought was the “tough love” I needed.

Wrong. So wrong.

It was all very surface level. He had no understanding of my situation at all. He was just doing his British thing and wearing all white while sitting on top of the hill looking down at me. Then he proceeded to show me, multiple times, that he himself is not a financially or emotionally stable human being, and therefore his judgments are irrelevant to me.

Anyway, I digress. Yeah, it would be nice to have a rich banker funding my creative lifestyle, but what I really need is someone emotionally stable enough to communicate with me in a solution-oriented way. Like, “Hey, you’re having a bad day today. What exactly are you upset about? Are you caught in a loop where you are reliving traumatic memories, or are you cranky because you haven’t eaten anything today? What do you need to do right now in this moment to feel better? How can we get you back on track so you don’t go off the rails?”

Personally, I don’t think that’s very much to ask for from your partner. That’s like… the most basic level, for me. I really need someone who knows how to communicate and wants to work together. But no! Apparently this is too much to ask for, especially from men, most of whom look at a woman and think, “How can I break her down psychologically so that she gives up on all of her goals and dreams in life? Then she can focus solely on servicing me, as if she were nothing more than a convenient household appliance?”

Yeah, it’s really a mystery why someone like me has ZERO fucking interest in dealing with a man like that.

Sigh.

Anyway, back to the writer…

He finished his drink and wandered off back into the night. It was at this point that closing time was looming in. I settled my tab and finished my drink as I watched the bartender start his closing tasks. That was the exact moment when our friend from the bathroom wandered in…

It was just the two of us alone with the bartender, so I took the opportunity to ask him the burning question on my mind: Why don’t you just marry your girlfriend?

So, first he pretended he never said that he wanted to get married. Then he went into some whole thing about how they are equals so they don’t need to do the formal piece of paper thing. Then he admitted to me that she had two kids (not his) that he’s taking care of, which annoyed me even more.

Legally speaking, this is not a good situation to be in. People say that piece of paper doesn’t matter, but… it really does. Trust me. Someone could get sick or die tomorrow, and you’re gonna find out REAL FAST how much that piece of paper matters, lol. Ask me how I know!!!

I think people just don’t plan ahead for these kinds of situations. Anyway, it definitely gave me the insight I was looking for in terms of human relationships. This is not the kind of relationship I would ever want, personally. I need that piece of paper. That shit is real and important. Now I know it’s 100% non-negotiable for me.

The amusing part of this conversation was when he looked me straight in the eyes and told me he was happy. Bro, you ran down here to the bar 15 minutes before closing time (11pm), then proceeded to down THREE double tall rum & cokes over the course of our very brief conversation.

That, combined with the incident between us at The Wolf, tells me something is extremely off here. I guess it’s technically none of my business. I just wanted to understand what’s going on with this guy and why he acts the way he does. So now I know.

I’m just like that, I guess. If someone is acting weird towards me, I want to know why. Like, this clearly isn’t about me right now, so there must be something up with you. Time for an investigation. What are you hiding? What are you insecure about? What is eating at you so much that you feel the need to take out your bullshit on me?

Now we know.

The bar closed down and I waited outside for him to leave. I smoked a cigarette and called an Uber, which is something I usually don’t do. However, I’ve learned that sometimes, it really is better for me to get a ride back home instead of walking all the way down the hill. I decided this was one of those days.

Then I came home and when I woke up in the morning, I wasn’t feeling well. I made myself some ginger tea with lemon and honey, then spent the day asleep. Then I slept all night. I feel better today, but my stomach is still revolting against me. I guess this means I’m taking a break from going out again.

Back to my yogi diet of fruit smoothies, herbal teas, giant salads with everything on them, my special Ayurvedic spicy noodles recipe, and the snacks I know are safe. I’m pretty good at sticking with my healthy diet. Like I said when I was in Bali, I tried to go full vegetarian but I was missing the protein too much. So as of right now, my biggest weakness is still McDonald’s…

Okay, that’s all I have to say today. I have an apartment to tidy and a trip to the market to make. Then I can work on finishing my Island of Lost Guys story. I see now why it stalled. Apparently my Neighbor’s character has more to say. Okay. Fair enough. We’ll keep that open until it finally feels like it’s “done.”

Off now! Have a good day. Farewell!