Category: Blog

Writing progress, stuff I do, books I read, movies I watch, etc

BLOG: This is My Home, This is My Family

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Wednesday.

Currently sitting on the patio of my favourite pizza place. I know the owner. He’s from NYC. He’s actually one of the first people I met when I came back here to Hong Kong. Therefore, I always come here when I want a little taste of home. This is how makes connections here, or so I have learned from the Secret Society over time.

Funny story: my English Uncle just passed by, followed closely by a group of Finance Bros. What is the collective noun for Finance Bros? A Flock? A Frat? Lol. Let’s see what Google says…

LOL WHAT?! Apparently the word is “wunch.” I’ve never heard this word in my entire life. Apparently it’s UK English, so I guess that explains why. The AI also suggested the terms “syndicate” and “portfolio.” Lol, a portfolio of Finance Bros. Hahaha. That’s funny. Binders full of Finance Bros!

He would be very amused by this. Naturally, he called out to me and waved as he passed by. It’s funny how much he reminds me of my dad without actually being anything like my dad at all. The rest of them were staring at me as they walked past like, “Who the fuck are you?” Oh, you’ll find out eventually, I’m sure. Everyone always does…

There is no doubt in my mind that when they ask him later he will say in his very posh British accent, “Oh, yes, Betsey! Bloody brilliant, that one! I joined her team last week for Quiz Night at the [Secret Society] and she aced the German section! Everyone was so surprised!”

Anyway, that randomness aside, this week has been… so unbelievably stressful for me. I cannot even begin to describe. Well, I suppose I did in the last post. Things have calmed down a bit since then, but I did have two nightmares in a row this week about working at Starbucks. Lol, those were the worst so far.

Hahaha, I literally had a nightmare the other night about being chased around my grandmother’s house by a giant pterodactyl/parrot and the nightmares about the year I worked at Starbucks were scarier than that.

Oh my god, do NOT get me started on Starbucks. We will be here all goddamn day. I’m seriously considering going to law school just so I can sue the shit out of them for the insane amount of labor violations and harassment I experienced during my tenure. Horrible company. Just horrible.

If you gave me the choice right now between being chased around by a dinosaur and working the drive-thru at Starbucks again, I’m choosing the fucking dinosaur. Yes, it was really that bad.

As of this paragraph, it is now Thursday. I am sitting in my little shoebox, chillin’ like a villain on penicillin. I am not having a meltdown today. I am making the choice now to let all the shit with my family and my old life go. Those people who intentionally say and do things to hurt me and put me in a hyper-anxious spiral are not my family.

When I told my grandmother that I was moving here last year, she did not say “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you! I’m proud of you for taking such a massive risk to move across the world and for having the courage to start all over again somewhere new.” You know what she said to me? She said, “I just feel so sorry for you because you don’t have a family.”

But you’re wrong, grandma. I do have a family. I have my brother, who literally saved just the day by sending me a very important package in the mail. I also have my Hong Kong Family now. They have been so supportive and helpful to me in these last few months. They have showed me kindness when I needed it the most. They have given me a feeling of acceptance I’ve never known in my entire life. They support me, they uplift me, and they want to see me succeed. They tell me they’re proud of me and they encourage me to be the best version of myself. This is my Home now, this is my Family now, and I truly feel in my heart that I belong here.

That is something my mother and her family have never given me in my whole life. They dragged me down to their level, they sabotaged my opportunities, and they did everything they could to make sure I failed, all so they could have a free live-in “helper” who they could beat up on whenever they felt like it.

Being here has taught me I don’t have to put up with that anymore. I don’t have to be a servant. I don’t have to be a scapegoat. I don’t have to be a punching bag. I can be me. I can be free. It just took me time to liberate myself from that mindset and realize that yes, I do belong in this world, and I can become the person I have always dreamt of becoming.

I haven’t been as productive as I hoped to be this week, but somehow in my heart, I know it’s okay. Today is the first day all week that I haven’t had a full-blown meltdown. I feel like I deserve a sticker or a Pokemon card or something, lol.

I think Mr. Next Door would agree if he wasn’t being so pissy lately. As we all know, he’s the only one here who has a front-row seat to my one-woman show, “The Many Moods of Me.” He’s the only one who knows what a monster I really am behind the scenes. He’s the one who has to see and hear it all. I make fun of him and his stupid hair, but I do feel bad for him when I lose all control over myself and start Hulking out. He’s standing on the other side of the wall just trying to cook his noodles or whatever and thinking to himself, “Bloody Hell, not again!!!”

He’s left me stickers on my door before. He carries them for the kids he coaches. I think he should leave one on my door today with a note that says, “Way to go, Godzilla. You did really well today. I’m proud of you for not having one of your world-famous nuclear meltdowns and destroying an entire city. Here’s an A for Effort.”

Wait, does the British education system even use that type of grading scale? I have absolutely no idea. That might be an American phrase. Who knows? I’m too lazy to look it up right now, lol. That’s an entire rabbit hole of research I’m not in the mood to go down. I have to go to the market and put away my laundry and do the dishes. I don’t have time for that.

Otherwise, yes, I am okay today. Everything is going to be okay. I am especially inspired because of Julia Stiles’ epic performance on Dancing with the Stars this week. She did a new version of her famous audition number from Save the Last Dance, which is one of my favourite movies of all time. Seeing her make such an epic comeback like that filled me with so much joy and inspiration. I’ve watched it like 7 million times in the last 12 hours. I really feel like… if she can do it, so can I.

I can’t say this on the record yet, but… Welcome to HKU, Ms. Horton.

Just kidding… or am I?

I’m not, lol.

The dance thing is an especially big deal for me because I consider Dance to be one of my favourite forms of therapy. It’s also something my mother tried to sabotage and destroy for me. I’ve never seen her angrier in my life than during the pandemic when I signed up for virtual dance classes. The look of pure evil on her face when she saw me practicing ballet and jazz and theatrical routines was so terrifying. Every time I had a class, she would interrupt it somehow. She would come home and scream at me like she’s never screamed at me in her life. She even cut off the internet on the day of my last recital so I couldn’t perform. It was so shocking and disturbing to me. I really saw her mask drop in that moment.

She also called me out of nowhere, screaming at me on the day of my first workshop review during the Paris Writing Workshop. During the pandemic, I had to stop telling her when I was attending online classes and workshops because she would barge into my room during live sessions and start berating me in front of everyone while the mic was one.

She has a longstanding pattern of behavior. These are not things that happened to me as a child. These incidents took place when I was in my early 30’s. So no, it does not surprise me now that she is doing the exact same thing to me right now. This is who she is. This is what she does. There is no doubt in mind she has already concocted some insane story about how I am the villain for leaving her all alone with her health problems instead of hopping on a plane to run back to her and be her own personal whipping post again.

Okay, I really do have to get going now. I have to go to the market and clean up and fold all my clothes while I re-watch Save The Last Dance for the billionth time in my life. I love that movie so much.

In the meantime, everyone please give a shoutout to my Brother, a Real-Life Superhero, who saved the day this week by sending me a Very Important Package in the mail. He is the Greatest of All Time. Truly the most amazing person on the planet. I love him so much. He’s my favourite person. I am so grateful every day that he is still alive. He survived something so difficult and now he’s thriving! I will never regret being there for him when he was going through a hard time. Now he’s here for me when I’m going through a hard time. He is my best friend in the entire world. My one true Ride-Or-Die Bitch. No one, not even our ridiculous family, can break the bond between us! BFFs4Lyf!

*everyone in the room does a polite golf clap*

Okay, off now. Ta ta!

BLOG: Endless Nightmare

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Monday.

Not doing so hot today. It’s because I am on my Moon. I have exactly zero energy. Instead, I am full of anxiety. Another night, another nightmare. Another panic attack. Another anxiety spiral first thing when I woke up. I have absolutely no control over it no matter what I do. I simply cannot keep it together long enough to get anything done. I don’t know what the solution is.

I just know the only thing that consistently works for me is medicinal marijuana, and that’s not a thing here. I also flat-out refuse to touch pharmaceuticals after what I went through as a teenager. I spent half of my life being forced to-fed drugs that turned me into a total zombie.

I’m not going back to that, just like I’m never going back to the evil mother who perpetrated that abuse on me from the time I was a child. I would literally rather jump off of a high-rise building than ever return to the US and deal with her and her overly-controlling, abusive family. I truly mean it when I say I hope she suffers until the end. She deserves it.

I had high hopes for being productive today, but that just hasn’t gone my way. I’ve been too busy having an anxiety spiral from my latest nightmare, then having yet another full-blown panic attack, and then recovering from all of the above.

But hey, as people keep telling me, anxiety isn’t real. It’s all in my head. I just need to shut up and get over it, right?

Right.

I just did the only thing I could think of to do: I meditated, made some tea, read a little bit, walked down the street to get a salad and a smoothie, and put on a movie. I do feel more relaxed now. Productive? No? Relaxed? Only slightly.

Well, the night is still young. I could be productive yet. If not, I’m just going to go to bed early and start all over again tomorrow morning. I’m not going out this week! I have resolved not to go anywhere until I have made significant progress on my job hunt.

I have no other choice. It’s either go back to my miserable old life where my family controls everything and destroys every opportunity I’m given, jump off a high-rise, find a rich boyfriend to take care me while I get my shit together, or find a job.

No pressure. None at all! No wonder all of this has been going so poorly for so many months. Ugh.

Great.

Okay, I’m going to go chill out now. Or at least… try…

BLOG: Beach vs Box vs Bar

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FRIDAY

Currently sitting at a lovely beachside cafe on Lamma Island. I just needed a break from everything today. I had planned a whole day today, but instead I decided to come here. Really gotta gear up for my big job hunt. What better way to start than with a glass of rosé, a little plate of hummus, and a bit of yoga on the beach?

Yeah, why even live in Hong Kong is I’m not going to take advantage of the fact that I can literally go to the beach whenever I want? It is what it is. The only problem is that the ferry was rocking so much that I still feel like I’m on it even though I am definitely not.

Really not a big fan of boats! That being said, I would still go to a yacht party if I was invited. But only if it’s an elite, exclusive event with a guest list and a fabulous dress code, not some drug-fueled rave party on a junk boat full of randos from Facebook. Not for me!

I am definitely feeling slightly on-edge today. I do feel that I have regained my confidence and power, but taking on this job hunt still feels overwhelming.

—

SUNDAY

Back in my little shoebox apartment that I have come to love, in spite of my crazy neighbor. I’ve been awake since 6am, so I decided to have a coffee and be productive. I’m surprised said neighbor did not come barging in at 6:30am and pick a fight with me. I guess I showed him who’s the boss here, huh? LOL!

Yeah, he’s been pretty quiet since I yelled at him through the wall, saw him fighting (???) with some guy outside 7/11, wrote him an apology note, then brought that rando home from Peel Street last week. That would be “Custom-Made Shirt Guy,” btw.

Still wearing his sweatpants, btw. It’s called a Power Move. This is how you assert your dominance, fam. I’m not putting up with any more bullshit from this overgrown manbaby and his bad bleach job. Over it.

Anyway… how did the rest of my day go on Lamma? Honestly, it was stressful AF. I went to the beach, but I just couldn’t relax no matter what I tried. I did yoga, I meditated, I went for a night swim, nothing worked. I made a little video describing how I don’t know how to have fun.

By the end of the day, I was drained and exhausted. It was the complete opposite of what I had hoped to achieve. I just came home, showered, made myself look all pretty, and went up to the Secret Society for exactly one hour before they closed. Everyone was there, but I had no desire/ability to socialize at all. They kept inviting me to join the group, but I just couldn’t do it. I had no energy left whatsoever.

My Irish friend came over to me to check in. He said he could tell something was wrong. I mean, he knows what’s wrong. Everyone knows what my situation is right now. I just said, “I know, I know, I know, I shouldn’t be sitting here alone wallowing in it and feeling sorry for myself. But right now… it’s the only thing I can do. I just need to sit here and feel my feelings.”

He nodded understandingly and said, “I’ve been there too. Don’t worry, you’ll feel better in the morning. You can do this. We all know you can do this.”

Right. Got it.

Spent all day yesterday at home in bed reading, napping, watching movies, and drinking tea. Now that’s my idea of a good time! Call me boring if you want, but I felt so much better than I had at any point on Friday when I was out and about on Lamma. It is what it is.

I did go out on Wednesday and Thursday nights to visit my friends in various other places. On Wednesday I chatted with this Aussie sailor I met last Saturday night who tells the most insane stories I’ve ever heard. Gotta love Ye Olde Sailor’s Tales.

On Thursday, I met an American at the Cantina and two French guys at the Corner Bar. I meet some really chill French people here. It’s easy to switch between French and English when chatting with them. They are not as uptight as French people in France, lol.

At first, I wasn’t really engaging with them. I was just sitting there alone with my notebook, observing the foot traffic at this particularly notable intersection. I was half-listening to their conversation in French. Apparently they noticed I was eavesdropping on them, because they approached me and asked me if that’s what I was doing. Oui oui, bien sûr! Caught in the act!

What can I say? Eavesdropping and people-watching are two of my favourite hobbies. It is what it is.

Good chat, good craic. I am making some very good connections lately. What can I say? I’m learning from the best. That’s why I joined the Secret Society in spite of its inherent weirdness. One of my new (young) friends up there and I like to joke about how we joined a cult. Is it? I don’t know! It might be, lol! I guess we’ll find out, haha.

The weirdness is definitely still there. Another one of these guys has started making weird sexual comments towards me and I’m just like… no. I’m not here for this. I appreciate the stories you tell and the very helpful financial advice you’ve given me recently, but it stops there. This does not go any further than that, okay? Okay. Please do not make me tell you to fuck off because I respect you more than that. Please have some respect for me in return. Thank you!

Furthermore, you are not free to put your hands on me just because of what I’m wearing. I’m not wearing backless halter tops because I want to look sexy and alluring. I’m a Scorpio. I’m going to give that vibe no matter what I wear.

I’m wearing tops like this because the water here is so terrible that the skin on my back has broken out and gets irritated when I wear certain tops in extremely hot weather. You can literally see it all over my back, or at least you would if you were looking at me like an equal human being instead of a sexual object.

This is the direct result of the combination of hard water and synthetic, plastic-based fabrics. Turns out that’s actually really bad for your skin! Science, bro. Do you speak it? Didn’t think so.

Men! So annoying. Ugh!

Can’t wait for the day when I can afford my own custom-made clothes. Natural, breathable fabrics, here I come! Adding my very own on-call bespoke tailor to my vision board now. Ready to manifest this item ASAP.

It won’t change the fact that men feel free to do whatever they want, but at least I’ll look good. Priorities. I know this because I fished a really cute, modest dress with all the right coverage out of a bin at a discount shop around the corner the other day and immediately picked up a guy the first time I wore it out. It is what it is!

/End Rant

That was draining just to write about. Ugh. Boundaries, Betsey. Next time just be clear about your boundaries without getting angry or upset. No touching unless given expressed permission. It’s not that hard! I know, it’s hard for them because they’re men, but I have to be the one to say, “Don’t do that. I don’t like it. I don’t care what your intention is. I did not give you permission. Please respect my boundaries.”

I’ll just keep saying it over and over until they get it. Will they ever get it? Probably not. But I’ll just wait them out until it clicks for them that when it comes to me personally, that shit does not fly.

My only other complaint is that they have all stopped calling me Liz and now only refer to me as Betsey. This annoys me greatly. I have specifically stated multiple times that I do not want to use my professional name when I’m there. But now, they are all insisting on calling me my professional name because they think I’m trying to hide my real identity. I guess they think I need to be puffed up professionally and that’s why they’re insisting on using my Nom de Plume instead? I don’t know. Either way, it’s actually really annoying. They are both derivatives of the same name, which is my Legal Name On Paper. Why does it matter so much?

It’s just another thing…

In the end, there’s only so much in this world I can control. As they say, pick your battles. Right now, I’m choosing the “Don’t touch me without my permission” battle. That is a real issue for me as someone who was assaulted multiple times in the past. I will die on this hill. I have zero problem with that. It’s not about me. It’s about a larger problem in society that needs to be addressed.

The last time I told someone not to touch me, one of the bartenders felt the need to intervene and show that she’s perfectly okay with being touched however any man wants to touch her. I just said, “Okay, but that’s her choice and her preference. She and I are not the same. It’s my choice and my preference not to be touched like that. So don’t touch me like that!”

They’re still trying to win this argument. They’re not going to with me. I’m just going to continue asserting my boundaries until they understand the word “No.”

Ugh, I’m just over it.

Uh oh, I think my neighbor just got home. It’s about 9am, lol. Wonder where he’s been all night? Don’t really care, to be honest! Just don’t take out whatever anger and frustration you may have collected over the course of the evening on me. Please and thank you!

Off now. I need to continue strategizing for the week. I have things to do. Things that don’t include giving the loser next door any more of my time or attention.

Onto the job hunt…

BLOG: Highs and Lows

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Wednesday.

This week has been full of ups and downs.

The lows included having a massive panic attack on way home Saturday night, dealing with my fucked up money situation, and losing at Quiz Night at the Secret Society because of their weird made-up scoring system that makes absolutely no sense to me at all.

It just seemed like it was fixed. Once I realized I’d been set up to fail, it was no longer fun for me to play anymore. I was already in a bad mood because of my financial situation, so I didn’t want to feel like even more of a loser. I don’t know how I can be getting 8/10 right on every round and still end up in last place. I can only describe it as “fake math.” Welcome to Wall Street, lol!

The upside is that my English Uncle was playing on my team and was dazzled by my knowledge, lol. I surprised everyone, including myself, with my knowledge of German 101. It’s not like the questions were that hard. I haven’t even taken German. I just lived in South Dakota, a place which was mostly settled by German and Scandinavian immigrants, so I guess I picked up a few things here and there.

He did make me feel better about the loss though. He said, “I think we all know the real winner tonight here is you. I admit you surprised me with your knowledge. Not just me, but everyone here. None of us were quite sure at first what to make of you, but I knew I had a good feeling about you.”

That did make me feel pretty good. I’ve been feeling pretty shitty recently for obvious reasons. Sometimes it’s nice to get a bit of validation from the outside. It’s funny because he and I didn’t get along at first, but now he’s one of my favs. He tells the most outrageous stories about his long career as a Finance Bro. I find him to be very amusing.

The night was also awkward because I invited a different friend to play with me, but instead he sent one of his friends in his place. He did show up later on, only to join a different team. The new friend was pretty chill, but she did turn to me several times and say, “This place is weird, right?”

“Yeah, it’s weird. I know you probably thought you were going to come here and just have some fun, but this place isn’t like that.”

She is not the first or the last person to make this observation about the Secret Society. I, too, think it’s pretty fucking weird sometimes. That being said, it’s a good place to network. It’s not about what you know, it’s about who you know…

Meanwhile, the highs of the week included seeing Princess Diana’s “Revenge Dress” on display at Sotheby’s, taking a campus tour of HKU, and hooking up with a man who I will only refer to as “Custom-Made Shirt Guy.” I offer no further details than that in order to protect his identity.

That was fun! Really fun, actually. I needed that way more than I thought I did. I should really work on that whole “finding a boyfriend” thing so I can get laid on a regular basis. Life is much less stressful after multiple orgasms.

Normally I would feel bad about bringing home a guy late at night because of the noise issue. However, Mr. Next Door has been a royal asshole as of late, so I didn’t feel bad about it at all. I guess now we really don’t have any secrets between us, lol. And here he thought he hated me before. Now he knows how loud I can really be!

I saw him outside on the corner outside 7/11 on Saturday night engaged in a situation that I can’t really explain and don’t really understand. All I can say is that I was concerned enough about what I saw to leave a note on his door the next day apologizing for what I said to him through the wall. He probably chucked it in the trash without reading it. Oh well!

I’m still keeping the sweatpants. I’m wearing them right now. They’re awesome. I have no regrets about stealing them whatsoever. It is what it is!

Well, I was waiting for this chick to message me about her interview, but I guess she’s busy working tonight. I’m going to call it a night then. I’m so tired. I just want to sleep, lol.

Goodnight!

BLOG: Fury of the Dragon

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Saturday.

Currently at a new place in my neighborhood. Shocking, I know. One of the servers from my regular brunch spot moved over here because it’s part of the same restaurant group, so I came to visit her.

We are planning to meet next week so I can interview her about her life growing up in Nepal and how she came to Hong Kong. I am very excited to sit down with her for this interview! She is actually the one who initially approached me about it, but she has been too busy with work to meet. I think she approached me a few days after that horrible flood and landslide that made international headlines. Something in the universe told her she should share her story. I am honored she chose me to help her tell it.

I’ve never done a proper sit-down interview like this before, so I will have to take some time to prepare. Pretty sure I can do it, no problem. I have studied many of the greats who came before me. Also, I do this all the time with random people on a very informal level. No problemo!

What news do I have from this week? Oh, you mean aside from the fact that I managed to make a total and complete ass out of myself at the Secret Society on Wednesday night after taking too many shots at the birthday party and had to go on an apology tour?

It’s fine. They didn’t immediately ban me for life because of one shitty thing I said, unlike CERTAIN people who shall not be named. *cough hack* ANDREW *cough hack*

The first two people I apologized to were pretty cool with it. It’s the lady friend of Mr. Bathroom who is holding the grudge. Oh, right, like she didn’t already hate me before and was just looking for an excuse to really hate me. I’m sure it will be fine. She’s pretty low on my priority list, so as long as we can smile and be polite to each other when in the same room, I don’t really give a fuck if she hates me or not.

——

Okay, here we are now at the Secret Society. Horse Guy is here. Too busy watching his races, as per usual. I really don’t give a fuck. I have exactly two things on my agenda right now: write this stupid fucking story about my stupid neighbor and apologize to this lady because she got offended by a comment that probably wasn’t directed at her.

Well, I already told one of these stories, so clearly now I have to tell the other story.

Ugh. My neighbor. Ugh.

As previously established, this guy is definitely crazier than I am. Once again, he proved it to me last night, or should I say this morning.

So allow me to preface this by saying I have not had the best two weeks. All week long, I have been doing everything in my power to be as productive as possible without having a total fucking meltdown.

I admit I have not been as successful with this goal as I hoped. I definitely had multiple meltdowns this week. The whole Cornell 7 case definitely triggered a full-blown angry meltdown that was far beyond my control. These things happen. I’m working on it! Yoga, meditation, quality social time, Netflix, reading, working on grad school and job applications, the usual.

So after Wednesday, I told myself I was going to be a good girl and isolate myself at home until I could come back to my center and behave myself properly in public again. I gave myself a week. Well… that didn’t work out. I deeply regret not going out last night because I had multiple messages from friends asking for me and I chose to isolate at home instead. Right, because I came all the way to Hong Kong to do that, right?

Right.

Didn’t drink at all, watched some TV, ate some noodles, drank some tea, went to bed early. Boring!

Fast forward to 6:30am.

Here comes my shitass fucking neighbor coming home from wherever the fuck he was, in whatever state of mind he was, choosing to be loud enough to wake me up from whatever nightmare I was having. fine. I heard him banging around on the other side of the wall, so I decided to calm myself down by heading up to the rooftop to have a cigarette.

Just as I was finishing up, here he comes with his stupid fucking Eminem hair out onto the rooftop. As soon as he saw me, he loudly exclaimed “Are you fucking shitting me?!” You know, as if he had not been the one rude enough to wake me from my unpleasant slumber. Okay, that’s my cue to go back inside and leave him alone to have whatever fucking meltdown he’s having.

Does he step off to the side of the garden to give me enough personal space to pass by without direct engagement? No. Of course not. Instead, he chose to sit right in the fucking doorway like the gatekeeping little troll he is and directly block my way back down the stairs. As I was turning the corner, I heard him muttering some weird passive-aggressive shit to himself.

Having seen him in this state of mind before, I chose not to engage him. Instead, I had to step over his fucking gigantic leg because he was manspreading wide enough to block the entire doorway, all while making a big show out of deeply sighing with annoyance and glaring down angrily at his phone. I said nothing and walked down the stairs. He continued muttering passive-aggressively to himself, at just a low enough volume so that I could not hear whatever insults he was lobbing my way. So annoying.

What is this, South Dakota?

I chose to ignore him and go back to sleep. Unfortunately for him, I had YET ANOTHER nightmare during my second sleep (because I literally have nightmares about my old life every single night), which triggered me so badly that I immediately had an epic meltdown as soon as I woke up.

Believe me when I say, I had a full-blown screaming meltdown at him straight through that stupid fucking wall. I didn’t even waste time with the little spoon, you know what I’m saying? I have had it up to here with this overgrown manbaby and his self-pitying spoiled rich boy shit. I went straight for the extra large wooden spoon and gave him the verbal spanking he so desperately needs. I got MEAN, and when I say MEAN, it really was… MEAN.

I literally said, “Do you know how lucky you are to even be featured as a character in my writing right now? You wouldn’t even be on my radar if we weren’t sharing a fucking wall! You’re not even a real actor, okay? What do you even do? Your granddaddy was someone important, your daddy was someone important, and meanwhile you’re over here ‘cruising the mom’s groups on Facebook.’ Seriously?! GROW. THE. FUCK. UP!”

I will not repeat the rest of what I said here. Just know it was not nice. I am so over this shit. The last thing I need in my life is to come home to some random fucking man who adds to fucking stress levels instead of finding a way to alleviate them.

I need someone who will lower my cortisol levels, not increase them. I need someone who sees that I’m Hulking out and says, “Hey, babe, have you eaten anything today? Should we take a walk? Maybe watch a movie? We could just fuck that anger out of your system instead! Works every time!”

But no. I get stuck with these miserable assholes instead. Ridiculous.

I truly mean this when I say I feel genuinely bad for whatever poor, unfortunate soul he may or may not be sticking his dick in right now. She has no idea what a fucking nightmare he actually is. Guess now we know why he’s where he is in life. This man isn’t lonely enough!

But hey, bro, according to what I’ve heard, you’ve been talking about moving to Lamma Island forever, so maybe this ongoing conflict between us (that you started, by the way) will inspire you to finally get off your lazy fucking ass and do it. Good fucking riddance to you.

I don’t need this shit in my life. I have real problems I’m dealing with right now. I don’t need this guy and his ridiculously stupid hair adding to it further.

I’m getting stressed out right now just writing about it. So triggering. Even my friend expressed concern when I recounted this story to her. Like, I literally don’t need this shit.

SO OVER IT.

Not enough men in this world fear me. I need more of that Secret Society speciality Kool-Aid with an extra shot of Power. Give it to me. I am ready to crush the hearts and minds of men under my bigass dragon feet.

UGH!

Anyway, I need to take a break from my screen now. I just want to sit in the A/C in silence and fucking watch people.

Over it. So over it.

The End.

BLOG: Get Those Wheels Turning

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Friday.

Where did the week go? What a mess. I managed to briefly dig myself out of the epic hole I found myself in, but it can only last for so long. It’s okay, though. I choose to stay positive. As a spiritual person, I choose to believe the universe is on my side. It will always provide. I just have to keep the faith, which is much easier to do now that I’ve made it this far.

I mean, let’s think about this, right? One year ago, I was back in Bangkok with no plan, no direction, and no words on the page. All I could do was wake up every morning, walk to the coffee stand, and write whatever came to mind. Somehow I made an entire book out of that, which is grand.

I also managed to get back into Hong Kong and stay here for the majority of the year, which in hindsight is actually pretty insane. Now I have some semblance of a direction and a plan plastering my shoebox walls. Something tells me I’ll be okay.

In the meantime, I have taken the advice of my English Uncle and started reading the book “The 48 Laws of Power.” I am actually legitimately concerned about myself because the average person finds that book to be incredibly disturbing, disillusioning, and depressing, whereas I find it absolutely fucking HILARIOUS! I’m having a great time reading it! Speaking as a person who has clearly spent way too much time in the company of actual, legitimate sociopaths, all I have to say is… LMFAO!

Then again, I do have a History degree, so I don’t need to spend any extra time doing background research on most of the featured characters. I do admit my knowledge of Chinese history is weaker than it should be. Good thing I live in China now, lol!

I am definitely having a bit of an issue with the whole power concept though. I made the joke to my friend that they’ve been serving me the Kool-Aid up at the Secret Society and I’m enjoying it far too much. The secret ingredient in said Kool-Aid is, in fact, Power. They’ve given me a taste of it and now I want more. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I’m so tired of living a life where I am made to feel powerless by everyone around me all the time.

Best examples:

1. My family took away my agency and ability to make my own choices. They controlled me for a very long time. They’re still trying to control me now. I don’t want that anymore. I want to have power over myself and my life.

2. Working shit jobs for shit wages where I was always at the mercy of some sociopath’s mood that day. One wrong look/word/movement and suddenly I can’t pay my rent or buy groceries or go to the doctor. It’s not a healthy way to live. It’s just… wrong.

3. Bloody Mary’s, anyone? When I first started this blog and began publishing those stories, the reaction people had to it made me feel like I had power for the first time in my life. All of them were at the mercy of my pen. And what was the result of that? Andrew took that power from me and turned me into his little writing slave.

Yes, that is how I feel about that whole thing now. Ten years. Ten years that man was my “Muse.” Ten years I felt powerless to do anything but write about him. Ten years he robbed me of my inspiration and talent and sucked it all up for himself. So not cool, bro!

In hindsight, it was a nightmare. Everything about that town was a nightmare. I told one story about it the other night at the Secret Society and their jaws were practically on the floor. “Here, have another dose of Kool-Aid, Betsey. You clearly need it after spending a decade a half out in the sticks.”

Yeah, I do. I really do.

Naturally, I am conflicted, as any ethical person would be. In the end, I thought of what my father would say if he was here: “Power is not the problem. It’s okay to have power. It’s how you use your power that counts. How are you going to use your power?”

I think we all know the answer to that, and it’s not the same way The Wolf of Wall Street used his power…

Deep questions, deep thoughts.

Today I am hunkered down in my shoe box, researching graduate programs here in HK. I’ve got a list of potential programs, requirements, and deadlines. I signed up for some info sessions. I’m planning to go around and give myself some campus tours. Motivation!

I like it here. I want to stay. This seems like a good path to go down.

I know I can’t be a kindergarten teacher. It’s not me. I knew when I was on Lamma Island the other day and met a bunch of kindergarten teachers who were just… completely checked out of reality. They also spoke down to me, the “new girl,” as if they were speaking to a child. It was weird and extremely off-putting, especially because I know I’m probably a lot smarter than all of them combined. I didn’t like that particular set, tbh. I did, however, like many of the other people I met, so that’s fine. There’s definitely a reason I didn’t last very long at my TEFL job. Now we know for certain what that reason is.

I don’t have to like everyone I meet. I just have to be in the same room with them. It is what it is!

Okay, I’m off now. I need to get some things done around the house and run the errands I’ve been putting off all week. Then I can go back to reading this absolutely ridiculous book and laughing my ass off at it as my reward.

Have a nice day!

BLOG: Found the Book, Lost the Plot

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Monday.

Here we are, back at the Secret Society, as per usual. There is no one here at the moment. Just me and the bartender. Perfect. Now I can write something.

Yesterday was… strange, but it ended relatively well. My Horse Guy was too busy watching “footy” and horse races with his friend to give me any attention. Typical.

They stayed here all day long. At a certain point it started to feel like we were playing chicken and just waiting each other out. In the end, he left without making a move, which was disappointing. Instead his friend walked up to me when I was having a chat with someone else and said, “I’m watching you.”

Yeah, who isn’t, right?

I just laughed at him and said, “Well, I hope you enjoy the show!”

He just gave me a weird look and left. Whatever.

Yeah, I know how it looks for me to be sitting in here chatting with all of these old guys. But you also have to remember that I’m a writer and I consider what I’m doing to be work. Engaging in flirtatious banter with these old bankers doesn’t make me a sex worker. I don’t just go home with anyone. I choose who I go home with. I chose your friend, aka the Horse Guy, for a reason. Maybe you should trust that reason instead of making assumptions about me.

Jerk.

Anyway, fuck these guys. I don’t need this shit in my life. I deserve to be with someone who doesn’t fuck me one time and then ignore me the next time we’re in the same room together.

MEN!

UGH!

Otherwise, the day was pretty boring. It got interesting when my “Uncle” showed up. We were just having a chat like we usually do, but then he got handsy with me in front of Horse Guy. I realized how it looked, so I told him to stop. He got weird about it and we had an argument over it.

Obviously, I didn’t want to just come out and say, “Hey, the guy I just fucked two weeks ago is sitting right over there. I’m concerned he’s going to think of me differently if he sees me allowing any old random man off the street to put their hands all over me.” But we all know that’s why it was upsetting me.

I could literally see the wheels turning in Horse Guy’s head as he was watching this exchange. It did not make me feel good to see him looking at me that way.

Of course, being very English, my Uncle decided to make his argument the hill he dies on. He just wouldn’t let it go. He kept insisting he wasn’t getting touchy-feely with me because he had bad intentions. Like, yes, I get it, but I’m still sitting here telling you I personally feel uncomfortable right now and I want you to stop. So just fucking stop!

Finally, the bartender intervened and separated us because we were causing a disruption. My Uncle went off to the bathroom. When he came back, he had a strange look on his face. He apologized to me, so I invited him to sit back down in the seat next to me. We just sat there together in silence until he finished his drink and left.

Luckily, right at that moment, the Scottish writer I was tracking down appeared. He walked over to me and said, “Hey, I brought you a gift. Come sit down with me at my table over there.”

I got up and went to his table to chat with him. He pulled out a copy of his book and handed it to me. He signed it for me and wished me well on my writing journey. He left shortly after and I sat back down at the bar with said book. It’s really good, actually. It made me feel seen and heard in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time.

This was when Horse Guy’s friend walked by me and said he was watching me. Yeah, so awkward, right? Jesus tap dancing Christ.

Ridiculous.

At this point, I just packed up and left because I was over it. I walked down to the Cantina to visit my friends. They were making me feel guilty for not visiting them recently. They think I ditched them for the Secret Society, which is not true. I pulled out the book the writer gave me and explained that I’ve been on a specific mission to acquire it. Then I promised to come in to visit them later on this week.

I left so they could close down, then stopped by the Corner Bar on Peel Street so I could hide in the shadows and just take a moment alone to recover from whatever the fuck that entire day was. I wasn’t ready to run home to my neighbor’s sweatpants at all. In fact, I realized I was actually dreading it.

Also, I was pissed off about the way Horse Guy acted. I was specifically hoping that would work out so I wouldn’t have to go back to that goddamn apartment and share that fucking wall with my neighbor anymore.

Nope! No boyfriend for me! Instead I get to go home and share a paper-thin wall with this ridiculously hot sexy beefcake who I don’t even get to fuck! It is actually starting to drive me insane. Even right now I can feel myself longing to scratch the itch, but I can’t. It’s like… I literally can’t do this anymore. ALL I can think about is fucking this guy’s brains out. Meanwhile, he’s sitting on the other side of the wall thinking to himself, “This bitch is fucking C R A Z Y. Maybe I should get up off my lazy ass and move to Lamma Island after all.”

Yeah, go, please. I can’t do this anymore. I had a whole meltdown over it this morning. That, and many other things, all coming together in one moment to push me right over the fucking edge. It was so bad. I completely lost my shit. Even my other neighbor approached me on the rooftop later like, “You good, girl?”

No. No, I’m not good. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep doing this alone. I just want a boyfriend who will fuck me every day and take me out on fun dates! Why is that so hard to find?!?! I’m so over it!

Okay, I’m starting to get stressed out from writing this post. I’m going to have a cigarette. Oh my god, I would give ANYTHING to smoke a big fat joint right now. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane in this ridiculous world, I swear.

Farewell.

BLOG: The Haunted Island

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Sunday.

Here we are, back at my preferred brunch spot.

The ladies at the table next to me are being annoying and difficult. You know, the type that look at the menu and say, “Is there anyway I can order the XYZ, but change literally all of the ingredients so it’s actually a completely different dish that you don’t even serve here?”

LOL, that one gets me every single time. Some people are so entitled.

This is why I can’t wait tables anymore. The anger issues are real…

The same person just asked to change tables because she’s “too cold.” Yeah, maybe it’s because you’re wearing a strapless, backless, high-cut leggy dress with no underwear on? Yes, I can see that. Everyone can see that.

Just asking questions!

So Ridiculous.

Some people’s children…

Blah blah blah, enough about that. We all know you’re here because you want to read about the Full Moon Party I went to on Lamma Island yesterday. As previously mentioned, I was invited by some friends I met at the Secret Society. This is not an adventure I would have otherwise been able to brave on my own.

As you may recall, my neighbor is a big fan of Lamma Island. Now I know why. It’s easy to see why he made it into his entire personality. It’s like the Thailand of Hong Kong. They even had Big Changs and elephant pants! Love it.

Obviously, I took the opportunity to stock up on incense. I forgot to buy a fan though, which is annoying because I really need one. I guess I’ll pick that up today. Memo to myself…

Hmm… sorry, got derailed for a minute there. I had to eat my avocado toast. Now, where was I? Ah yes, Lamma Island.

I wandered about for a bit trying to get some sense of where I was. It’s a small island, but it’s very jungly. Can’t say I loved walking around alone in said jungle alone at the end of the night when I was trying to find my way back to the ferry. It was quiet. Too quiet. Like, eerily, spookily, unsettling quiet. That’s never a good sign, as far as I’m concerned. The jungle should sound like a symphony at night.

Anyway, I tried to go to the chill, local restaurant that was recommended to me at the Secret Society, but it was too full. I used the opportunity to check out the place that was described to me as “very douchey.” It was a fancy restaurant right by the sea with a lovely view and extremely overpriced menu. I loved it, lol.

And as I sat there with my glass of French rosé and my mini hummus platter, looking around at all of the douchebags surrounding me, I couldn’t help but wonder… Am I a douchebag too?

Lol, I might be!

I received the answer to this question soon after, when I finally met up with my friend and we walked down to the beach together. There, she introduced me to everyone. They were all very hippie dippie. Very relaxed, very chill. Perhaps a little too chill. It was giving Bali yoga shala vibes, which, in my experience, is never a good thing.

As we all know, as a neurodivergent person, I am extremely uptight and weird all the time. I have exactly ZERO chill. I could definitely tell some of them were put off by my general aura. I thought to myself, “Yup, I’m definitely a douchebag. It’s okay! At least I’m self-aware!”

It was in this moment I realized exactly why I love the Secret Society. They’re a bunch of uptight douchebags who don’t know how to have fun, and so am I.

This was re-confirmed to me later in the evening, when the sun was setting and it was time to stop by the beach bar. I went to shower off and change. As I was standing in the dressing room, I heard the Canadian chick talking shit about me to her American friend. I just laughed to myself. Like I’ve never had this happen to me before, right?

I waited a minute and allowed the conversation to pass. Then I walked out with my head held high, made direct eye-contact with her, and smiled at her in a way that said, “You know I just heard all of that right?” without me actually having to say it.

Then I walked up to the bar and bought her a drink. She tried to refuse three times, but I insisted. I said, “I’m just being nice” and gave her the same sneaky little smile again. She did not look happy AT ALL! Mwa Hahahaha! I win.

I know. Impressive, right? It’s called a Power Move. Look it up.

We all sat down around the table and began chatting again. The American guy wanted to rant about the train system in the US, but I stopped him and said, “Hey, I would love to catch up with you sometime about American politics, but right now we are in mixed company and we need to respect the other members of the group.” That worked! Shut him right down.

That was when they subtly turned the topic of conversation to my neighbor. Oh yeah, they definitely knew him. They were subtle about it, but it was obvious to me what they were doing. He must have warned them I was coming, lol.

I’m speculating this because he left to go to 7/11 about five minutes before I left to catch the ferry so he could walk out of the elevator at the same time I was walking in. He also chose to make the same trip with the exact same timing when I came home. Pretty weird coincidence after two months of avoiding me at every opportunity possible. He knows what he’s doing. I know he can hear me through the wall.

Or perhaps it wasn’t him at all. It was me all along. I’m the one who asked early in the day if any of them knew him. Of course, no one knew him at all. Sure, Jan. He talks about it all the time, but no one on this tiny little island knows him at all? Yeah, I’ve seen this tactic deployed in HK before.

They all pretended not to know him until this conversation. I am not the one who brought it up. They took care of that for me, as I knew they would.

Hahaha, suddenly I understood why that Canadian chick had such a sharp stick up her ass. She was acting WEIRD! She was not subtle about it at all. In the back of my mind I wondered if they’d had a thing at some point.

Not gonna lie, I did judge him for that. Just a little bit. Really, bro? A Canadian? I have a whole Island of Lost Guys and even I’ve never fucked a Canadian. How do you even talk dirty to them in bed? What do you say? How does that conversation go?

“Oh baby, oh baby, show me how sweet that Maple Syrup tastes.”

“Oooh yaaaahhh, dontcha know it, eh?”

Yeah, no, can’t do it. Too close to South Dakota. Not for me!

I digress. Back to whatever I was talking about before.

I would not call this an in-depth conversation. I would say they wanted to ask me one question, and one question only. They wanted to know why he talks about moving over there all the time but hasn’t done it yet. I just shrugged and said, “I don’t know. Maybe there’s something keeping him where he is right now.”

They just look at me like, “What?”

That was when the guy sitting right across the table looked right at me and gave me this weird knowing look. I looked back at him and realized he looked really familiar. Like I knew him from somewhere, but I didn’t know where. Hmmm… strange, indeed.

And that was it!

I do have a theory about that now, upon further reflection.

To me, that place felt like a dead end. You go there, you settle down, you live your little paradise Island life, and you never leave again. It’s giving Land of the Lotus Eaters vibes, you know?

I thought about the night he flipped out on me on the rooftop and realized he wasn’t actually yelling at me. He was yelling at himself. I don’t think he really wants to settle into another dead end. I think he’s like me. He’s more interested in figuring out how to elevate himself.

I could be wrong, of course. We could just be projecting random bullshit onto each other through that paper-thin, cockroach-infested wall. Who even knows at this point?

The conversation moved along and they all went their own ways shortly thereafter. They invited me to some bar for the live music, but I wanted to go off on my own.

I chatted with the bartender for a bit before heading off. As I was leaving, I said to him, “Sorry, what did you say your name was again?”

“Andrew.”

Fuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkkkk!

Now THAT… THAT was too much for me. I promptly went back down to the beach and sat alone under the full moon, drinking my Big Chang and processing all of my thoughts. I did a Moon Salutation on the shore and let my spirit become one with the sea. Then I decided to catch the ferry back home.

This was the part when I got lost in the jungle. Not fun! Not for me! Like I said, it was too quiet for me. Freaked me out. It reminded me of South Dakota, and not in a good way. All I wanted in that moment was to get the fuck off that haunted island and get back home.

That was when the freakiest part happened: a little Indian boy on an orange bicycle that looked just like Mad Dog’s appeared. He motioned for me to follow him, so I did. He led me right back to the ferry before picking up speed and disappearing somewhere far ahead. He never came back down the pier, and I didn’t see him at the end of the dock by the ferry.

SPOOKY AF!

I’m so into that shit. I love it when I have weird spiritual encounters. I mean, I definitely don’t like them when they’re happening to me in the moment because it’s pretty much always weird and freaky, but it’s always fun to write about them later!

Finally made my way home, only for my neighbor to make another one of his dramatic appearances. I just gave him the side-eye as I passed him like, “Wow, what the fuck, bro?”

I was high on the adrenaline rush of getting lost and trying to find my way home, so I went to meet my new American friend at the bar he works at on Peel Street. He promised me a free beer if I came to their anniversary party, so I took him up on the offer as a show of solidarity with my fellow Americans in Hong Kong. You know, all five of us, lol.

Peel Street was popping, but it was way too messy and overstimulating for me. Can’t do it. Not for me. Especially after the general weirdness of yesterday. I took my free beer in a to-geaux cup and headed back home. At this point, I was much calmer. Mission Accomplished!

I stayed up for awhile writing jokes to calm myself down. It felt like it took FOREVER to bring my cortisol levels back down to normal. I finally went to sleep, but did not dream that I can recall, which was a relief after all of the crazy nightmares I had this week.

Today I woke up and everything went back to normal. I did a really intense yoga session on the rooftop, took a shower, did a soothing aloe face mask, then got dressed and came out for brunch. Now I’m writing and judging the fuck out of the weird characters currently sitting in this room.

Well, Mr. Next Door, did you learn a lesson today? Just because I’m obsessed with you doesn’t mean you’re the only character on the island. Don’t take it too personally. After all, I’m not convinced it’s really you I’m obsessed with. Honestly, I think it might just be the super comfy sweatpants I stole from you. We’re in a pretty serious relationship now. I wear them like, every single day, literally.

LOL!

Okay, I’m off to bum around the Secret Society now. Oh, look, my Aussie Horse Guy is here. Fun!

Have a nice day! I know mine will be…

BLOG: What A Week!

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Friday.

At the Secret Society.

I should be socializing right now, but I had to get all of my thoughts out of my head first. It’s been a very long day…

Hmmm…

Where exactly does said day begin?

Where did I leave off last? I think it was… Wednesday?

Yes, that sounds right.

Okay, so I did nothing on Wednesday but take time to recover from that absurd argument with my absolutely ridiculous family. That conversation made me ask myself, “How the fuck did this bitch even get into law school when she never even asks any questions?”

She just comes at me with all of these absolutely insane assumptions. She doesn’t even take her time to do her research at all. How can I even have a conversation with someone when they literally do not acknowledge my reality at all?

Anyway, yeah, that was insane. All of them are insane. I’m so grateful the chances of ever seeing them again are as low as they are. Even having to stand in the same room as them is just… grating.

Okay, so… what did I do on Thursday? Oh, right, I got my financial shit together, sort of. Then I went out to the Secret Society to socialize. This is where my story really begins…

How did last night go?

Hmm…

Let me try to remember…

Well, it started with me sitting down next to this guy who I can only describe as the Irish Slytherin. Slytherin McSlithery, if you will, haha. He definitely doesn’t like me. Every time I see him, he makes a cringey face at me. I called him out on it last night. I did an imitation of said face and said, “I love the fact that every time I see you, you make a face at me like this. So honest. So real. I really appreciate that about you.”

He just narrowed his eyes and made the same face at me again, lol. He’s actually sitting across the way from me right now. He already asked to borrow my lighter. I lent it to him because I don’t have any hard feelings about it. It is what it is. I don’t give a fuck if he likes me.

Then I was greeted by Mr. Bathroom Guy, which, as we all know, I never really enjoy. I know in his culture they do the kiss-on-the-cheek thing, but he definitely tries to use that as an excuse to get super handsy with me. I’ve told him not to do it, but he doesn’t listen to me. It makes me uncomfortable. Everyone in the room can see it, so therefore it makes them uncomfortable. It’s just… uncomfortable. He just can’t keep his dirty little paws off of me. Hates it!

On this particular day, he used the opportunity to whisper in my ear, “Remember what I said to you to the other day?” Then he switched to the other side. “Remember the offer I made?”

Oh yes, I definitely remember that. As we all know, I wrote that shit down as soon as I escaped this place. And wouldn’t you know it? The answer is still… NO!

Ugh.

In case you’ve already forgotten, the offer this sleazeball made me was to find me a nicer apartment and pay for it on the condition that I essentially become his mistress. I said no for obvious reasons, the biggest being that I don’t actually like him! I’m not attracted to him at all. He’s so slimy and gross! My family just cut me off and I still won’t debase myself enough to sleep with him just to pay my rent.

Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to watch this incredibly uncomfortable interaction as if they were waiting to see what I would do and say. I just made a cringey face behind his back and rolled my eyes. Next time I see him I just want to say, “Please don’t touch me like that again. I’ve asked you multiple times now to stop. Please just stop.”

Yeah, we’ll see if that actually works, haha.

Meanwhile, his lady friend (not the girlfriend) was watching this interaction with a look of pure jealousy on her face. Like, girl… I’ve told you before. If you want him, you can have him. Please take him away from me. I don’t like him at all. I only socialize with him because I have to. I am not into this man at all.

I’m still secretly obsessing over my neighbor, who has suddenly decided to appear three times this week after two months of nothing. Weird. I just glare at him and roll my eyes when I see him. I think we both know it’s just for show.

I think we also both know he looks absolutely ridiculous with his new bleach blonde hair. Like, what even is that look, bro? Did you pay actual money to get that terrible dye job, or did you just pour peroxide on your head after a bad day while listening to Eminem?

The world may never know. The only question we can ask now is…

Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?

Hahahahahaha!

I can’t.

I think he might actually be crazier than I am, which is… definitely some food for thought. Is this just another Andrew? Because I don’t think I can handle another Andrew.

Anyway…

Meanwhile, back at the Secret Society…

I chatted with one of the old Finance guys for awhile and asked him some finance questions that I already knew the answer to. I just wanted to make sure I was actually right and not deluding myself again. As per usual, I was right. I am definitely way smarter than any of the idiots in my family give me credit for. It is what it is.

Hmmm… then that lawyer kid was here. He’s pretty chill. He’s super young but it’s cool.

Hmm… that’s all I remember for now. Who else is in this room right now?

Oh yes, I completely failed to mention the fact that the writer guy whose identity I was investigating a few weeks ago was here on Monday. He acted like a total fucking misogynist jerk to me. He also mansplained how to open a jar to the bartender after she had already opened said jar, which was just… annoying. I guess that’s why they say the phrase, “Don’t ever meet your heroes.”

He’s actually here right now. I have no interest in talking to him anymore. I tried to talk to him the other day and he was pretty rude to me. He was telling me to stop talking and making side-jokes to his friend about how women should be silent and obedient and that’s why he married his Japanese wife. So Gross, I know.

It’s just like… jail… straight to jail.

That happened before he mansplained how to open the jar to the bartender. Once he did that, it was game over for me forever. I have zero interest in ever engaging him again. It is what it is.

Hmm…

I tried not to stay out late last night. In fact, my lawyer friend walked me back down the hill to the Cantina so I could introduce him to my friends there. He said he likes to go there and write sometimes, so I thought it was a good idea to introduce him to the staff. Everyone got along, which was grand.

I was on my way home when the SoHo Queen spotted me and dragged me into whichever bar she was in on Peel Street. We had a drink and then she dragged me over to a French bar, where she introduced me to several Frenchmen I’ve never met before.

It’s funny how the different expat bubbles work here. Usually I do not meet French people, even though there many of them here. The Secret Society is generally a place where English speakers hang out, meaning it’s primarily English, Irish, Scotch, Aussie, Canadian, and American. The French have their own spots in HK. It is what it is.

I do not remember much about this part of the night except for the fact that I attempted to use my broken French and they weren’t mad about it. This is the first time in my life I’ve spoken to a French person without them getting angry, correcting me, or them changing the language to English. I understand far more than I can speak, so I told them just to speak in French and I would respond in French or English depending on how deep I needed to go in thought. It went pretty well, I think. Then again, we were all pretty drunk at that point, so who really knows?

I find French people in HK are generally way chiller than French people in France. That’s why they’re here, after all. They didn’t come here because they only want to speak French to French people. They come here because want to mix with an international community. That’s why all the expats come here. That’s definitely why I came here.

At some point I decided to wander home and go to sleep. Sometime during the night, I had a nightmare and woke up screaming. I have no idea what the nightmare was about. I don’t remember it at all. The only reason I know I had a nightmare is because I woke up screaming “NO, NO, NO! I WON’T GO BACK! I WON’T GO BACK!” I jumped out of bed and immediately started crying. It took a minute to realize I was actually in the middle of a full-blown panic attack. Grand!

It took some time for me to recover from said panic attack. Usually I can talk myself through it, but I had trouble this time because I had no idea what I was melting down over in the first place. Yeah, it sucked. No idea what triggered it or what it was about. I can only imagine it involved my family or South Dakota. That’s usually what my nightmares are about.

I had a To Do list I was planning to work through today, but I was so distressed about my unknown nightmare and subsequent panic attack that I had to take another day to recover. I just stayed in bed and watched Disney movies all day. Then I finally got up, showered, got dressed, went to grab some food, and made my way up here.

All of the regulars are here, but I honestly don’t feel like socializing with anyone at all. I thought I did but now that I’m here, I just want to go home and put on my annoyingly hot neighbor’s sweatpants and go to bed. I do have a long day on Lamma Island planned for tomorrow, after all.

Yeah, I’m not even drinking my drink right now. I’m just sitting here in the corner typing away and side-eyeing Slytherin McSlithery for blatantly stealing my lighter from me. So annoying. I better get that back before he wanders off with it.

Hmm… was there anything else I wanted to say? I don’t think so. I just had to get all of the thoughts out of my head before I started chatting with everyone. I guess I’ve done that now.

I guess I’m off to do that now. I have to pretend like my life isn’t falling apart and that I actually find their finance chat interesting. Yawn. Like I said… I think I’d rather be at home right now, even though Mr. Next Door is literally fucking driving me crazy by just silently existing on the other side of the wall.

Ugh.

Okay, off now. Ta ta!

BLOG: She-Hulk Smash

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Thursday.

Believe me when I say this has been one of the most exhausting weeks I’ve had in awhile. If you guessed it’s because I had to deal with my family, you would be correct.

Let’s just say… it got ugly. Really ugly.

They tried to threaten me and drag me back to the US. Naturally, they flat-out refused to listen to anything I have to say about my own life, as per usual. As we all know, I am clearly a stupid person who doesn’t know anything about the world and needs to be treated like a small child. I’m just over it.

They trigged me really badly. I went full She-Hulk mode, which is unfortunate because I have recently been doing really well with my anger issues and making progress on “integrating my two identities,” to quote the TV show directly. It was a very difficult moment for me.

Unfortunately, this is just what they do. This is who they are. They trigger me on purpose to get me to have this reaction, then turn it around and use it against me so they can play the aggrieved victim. It’s psychology 101. They’ve done this to me my whole life. They do not respect me or care about my wellbeing at all. They just want to be in control.

Well, I am not letting them be in control anymore. I am in control of myself now. I’m not going to let them destroy another opportunity. I’ve worked so hard just to get where I am right now. Do they care? No, of course not. They just expect me to throw all of it away like it’s nothing. That’s how little they think of me. They just expect me to give up and run back home so I can be their free live-in helper again.

It’s honestly really sad. Like, why can’t you just be happy for me? Why can’t you help me build myself up instead of always trying to tear me down? I don’t understand. No one I explain this situation to understands.

They just think, “Wow, your mother is a horrible person. What kind of monster insults her own daughter’s intelligence, body-shames her constantly, sabotages all of her educational and career opportunities, and uses emotional/psychological/financial abuse to control every aspect of her life? And then when that doesn’t work, she just sends in her flying monkeys to do her dirty work for her? Wow, this woman is so crazy she truly defies classification by the DSM. It’s absurd.”

Yeah, I don’t need that shit in my life. Speaking as an American, we do not negotiate with terrorists. My mother and her family are emotional terrorists. They would rather blow everything up than negotiate a fair deal. I will not negotiate with them anymore. To make the perfect metaphor, I’m here for a United Ireland, not for the continuation of sectarian violence to keep the Emerald Isle divided.

Savvy?

Anyway, that ended with me telling my aunt to fuck all the way off and blocking her. I told her “I live here now. Hong Kong is my home. My future is here. Six months ago, I still wasn’t sure I could survive here. But I did. And now I know that I belong here more than ever. There is nothing in the US for me. I won’t go back to the way my old life was before. I’ve gotten myself out of plenty of messy situations in the last year. I can get myself out of this one too. Please do not contact me anymore. I don’t want anything to do with you or your family.”

It was hard for me to do that. I’m not going to lie to you. These people have been bullying me my entire life. It took everything I had to stand up for myself and fight back. I had to rest all day yesterday because of the fact that it took so much out of me. But I did it. I did exactly what my Irish Family in Bangkok taught me to do: I stood up to those fucking wankers and told them to fuck all the way off.

As they say in Ireland… next time I’m coming back with the big spoon!

I’m not sorry. I did what I had to do. I was supposed to be at Quiz Night at the Secret Society when this argument happened. I was invited to join a team and I had to miss the entire event because my aunt chose this exact moment to pull me away for an argument.

It’s like… wow… y’all really have a sixth sense for this, don’t you? It’s like you knew that I was doing something that made me happy and healthy, and you just couldn’t stand to see it. That’s why you destroyed it. That’s the kind of people you are.

Never again.

Anyway, I’m not out of this race yet. I still have resources available to me. Yes, I have to get super serious about my job hunt and just go full-throttle with it. At least now I have the benefit of the connections I’ve been making at the Secret Society to help me do it. I have all of the tools I need at my disposal. Hong Kong is a place that rewards people who are willing to hustle and want to elevate themselves. Even my Tarot card reading today said I will succeed if I plan carefully enough.

So, that’s what I’m going to do. I made my To Do list. I’m going to handle my shit, if only to show those evil bitches that they don’t own me and will never control me ever again.

We do not negotiate with terrorists. I will no longer negotiate with you. I have gotten up from this fake peace process and left the table to go do what I have to do to move forward and build a better future for myself. And what are you doing? You’re still building bombs in your fucking basement because it’s the only thing you know how to do.

Off now. I have a lot of work to do today.

Peace out, bitches!