Category: Blog

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

BLOG: Irish Dancing in the Rain

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Monday.

Here I am at ye olde Irish pub.

And may I just say… HELLLOOOOO sexy beefcake! Who is this hottie with a body who just walked in and sat right across the bar from me? I can hear a faint accent. Is it an Irish accent? Gurl ‘cause if it is… sign me up to climb that hill today.

Anyway, insert something about rewarding myself for my job interview today with a bowl of hot beef stew and mashed potatoes with extra, extra butter?

Ummmm I think this lad over here might be the comforting side dish I’m looking for today.

I don’t see a wedding ring! HAHA but as we all learned from the last Irish lad… that doesn’t mean anything at all.

Hmmm he might not be Irish. He said “great” instead of “grand.” Now it’s officially up in the air. Anyway, I need to stop looking at him and drink my Guinness.

He reminds me of someone… I think it’s…. Nick Jonas? Right? Is that the one who is married to Priyanka Chopra? Or is that Joe? Or was he the one married to the chick from Game of Thrones? I still haven’t seen that show to this day and have no plans to ever watch it. Anyway, I don’t actually know the difference between the Jonas Brothers. I’m too old for that shit. He looks like at least one of them. Maybe. I think.

Anyway, a little thirsty there, Bets? Maybe you should have split your G before you looked up from your iPad. It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s not looking at you. He’s looking at his phone with that weird little twisted smirk I recognize so well. I already know exactly what that means.

Thank you, next.

ANYWAY WHAT WAS I TALKING ABOUT?!

I have no idea. Where am I? Why did I come here?

I don’t remember who I am anymore.

Okay.

I have now eaten my potatoes and stew. I have had half of a pint of Guinness. I’m chillin’ in the Irish Pub listening to Irish Music. I’m grand. My spirit is officially recharged. Sometimes I feel myself running on empty and then I come here for a meal and it’s like I’ve magically sorted myself out again. Love that for me. Nothing like a bit of Irish magic to set me right when I need it the most.

Anyway, so I had a job interview today, which is what I actually came here to say. It was okay. I think teaching adults might be a better fit but I don’t know about this company. They said they’re undergoing “restructuring,” whatever that means. The online reviews aren’t great. I wonder if that has anything to do with the “restructuring?” Probably.

My interviewer was American, which was great because bonus points for me, duh! Do you know how hard it is to find other Americans in Hong Kong? It’s a challenge! So that already puts me slightly ahead of the competition. Plus he had some similar experiences so he could vibe.

The office itself was definitely giving “bro” vibes. I looked around that room and it was all bros. I could feel it before I looked because I walked in and everyone stopped and stared at me. I could feel the male gaze upon me. Then I looked up and around and sure enough… it was mostly bros.

So, yeah, obviously I don’t know about that one. I’m not exactly enthusiastic about working with mostly men. I feel like it could be… distracting? Problematic? Better to avoid altogether?

I don’t know. I’m not in a position to be picky, so let’s just see how my follow-up interview for the other place goes on Wednesday. Then I gotta make my visa run to Macau this weekend. So much to do, so little time.

Let’s just say I’ve definitely learned the importance of shopping around today, lol. I’m still freaking out, of course, but I have nothing left to lose at this point, so I just have to keep pushing through, whatever that means…

How am I feeling right now? Mostly like I just want to go home and get in bed and wrap myself up in a blanket and watch Netflix while the thunderstorms rage on outside. Instead I decided to hope the MTR over to the Kowloon side in the middle of a major thunderstorm warning and live dangerously.

I’ll be sure to take the Star Ferry back just so I can get the whole “Irish Ancestors leaving behind their barren, empty, famine-ridden homeland and crossing the stormy seas to find their way in a brave new world” vibe. Really makes the meal worth it, to be honest. You really need to suffer through the rainy slurry on a rickety old boat…

Just kidding. There’s no ferry service in this weather. I just gotta hop the MTR and be done with it.

Well… best get to it before the weather gets even worse.

Have a nice day!

BLOG: Mickey D’s Meet-Cute

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Monday. 2:30am. We are having thunderstorms here in HK. The thunder is very loud and the Lightning is very bright. It keeps me awake at night. Luckily, I napped a lot today during the rain, so it’s okay.

So much to recount from this weekend. It was a lot.

Friday I did more job hunting things. I decided to go out that night. I wore one dress I had picked up on sale at the thrift store around the corner, but walked by and saw this other totally gorgeous dress in the window. I went in to try it on and felt so beautiful. I looked like a Princess!

Needless to say, I made a somewhat irresponsible purchase and wore it out of the store. I felt like I should get myself something nice to celebrate my first year living abroad. Ive been showing a lot of restraint when it comes to buying clothes. I’ve had to replace some necessities like pants and tops, and I needed a coat. But otherwise, I am not going on expensive shopping sprees around the boutiques and stuffing my closet full of expensive dresses I will never wear. Those days are over!

Besides, I have a whole closet I’m waiting to import when I finally get my new apartment. Manifestation ftw.

So I was out wandering about Central in this dress and decided to head up to the cantina. There I got stuck talking to one of these weird anime guys in his mid-40’s. Too much for me. Definitely what I would call a waste of a dress.

I decided to go home a bit earlier than usual. As I was walking home, I met another gentleman on the way. I was coming down the stairs as he was walking up. He looked at me and he just stopped still in his tracks. He stared at me for a moment with his mouth wide open. Then he ran up the stairs to greet me.

The first thing he did was offer me his McDonald’s bag. Seriously! He just held it out to me and said, “Do you want to share this with me? I got two pies! Which do you want? Apple or pineapple?”

LOL!

We have a winner for the best pick up of all time. That’s a good one!

So this gentleman is an airline pilot from South Africa. I know. I cringed at first too. However, he’s more international minded and lives here in HK. He has an HK phone number and apparently lives right around the corner from me. That’s very convenient. Looks like we both frequent the same McDonald’s, lol.

Also, the pilot thing is kinda hot. I’m into the hat. I can see it…

So we sat and chatted. He was very sweet, actually. He said I seem like I’m carrying a lot of weight and he asked me if he could take something off my back for me. I just hit him with the dead daddy issues thing straight away. He didn’t freak out, which is refreshing. Then again, he is from South Africa, so he’s probably qualified to fight a lion and/or crocodile, and therefore deal with me.

I agreed to wander back up to Peel Street with him for a drink. The dress needed redemption. We made it to last call and sat outside on the steps drinking our Tsingtao. The street was eerily quiet and empty. Very uncharacteristic of a Friday night.

We hung out and talked for awhile. He wanted to have sex right away, I didn’t. Boundaries! No more sleeping with strange men! I told him I needed more space and time for that. Luckily for me, he appeared to be very respectful of that fact. Plus he is busy with his own life, as everyone here in HK is, so it’s easier to set boundaries around that sort of thing. He can disappear if he wants to. I just know I prefer to have more space right now.

I went home alone and spent the weekend in bed watching movies and generally rotting. I set up my schedule for the week. I’m nervous about my interview on Wednesday. It’s challenging for me but it’s a good company so I’m going to do my best.

My interview tomorrow, not so much. This company doesn’t have great reviews. They have the name and the prestige, but the reviews were yikes on bikes. I take that sort of thing very seriously. I will check the vibe there tomorrow and see how it is.

I also worked more on my vision boarding for the next few years. I keep emphasizing stability, routine, security, long-term planning. Setting goals and making plans. I’m trying to build up my vision of who I want to become in the next few years. Perhaps maybe someone who is not a total mess? Hmm, yes, I think that would be nice.

Off now. I want to try to get some more sleep before the next storm comes. I don’t mind so much. I think Hong Kong is the most beautiful in the rain.

BLOG: The Darjeeling Limited

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Fri-yay!

I am currently hungover AF, which is a shame because I had big plans for today. In addition to the two interviews and dozens of rejections, I had three follow-ups that I definitely planned to follow up on today. Naturally, I self-sabotaged by getting way too drunk while I was at home alone.

Welcome to my life. And here I wonder why no one will ever love me, haha. Hey Betsey, here’s a brilliant idea: why don’t you stop looking at men and look at yourself for a change? Learn to love you and the mess that you are instead of waiting for some hot beefcake to rescue you from your bullshit.

Wow, brilliant, so many lessons learned today. I feel so enlightened now!

Yes, yes, yes, learn to love yourself, blah blah blah, become a strong, empowered woman, and all that jazz!

That being said, I would still very much like to end my days by falling into the arms of a hot, sexy beefcake (preferably with an even sexier accent) who just rescued me from a cockroach. That’s the real dream right there.

Listen, Ewan McGregor divorced his wife, married a woman 20 years younger, got her a job playing a Twi’lek in a Star War. It could still happen for me. I could be Wife #3, you know what I’m saying? There’s still time for me to see what’s really underneath the kilt, ya know what I’m saying?

Lol

Hahaha

Yeah I’m definitely still “off my tits” as they say in… Ireland? Scotland? England? Wales? The UK? I don’t even know anymore. They’re all so different. Is this a colonizer phrase? Who even knows anymore?

Breaking News from the Thai-US Embassy: Your passport will be revoked if you’re not making your child support payments on time.

I love this for all Thai women everywhere. Now let’s do the Philippeans! Stop letting these gross Passport Bros get away with shit! If I’m not allowed to go back to Thailand because I pissed off the local branch of the Irish Mafia, then they definitely shouldn’t be allowed back.

I’m totally kidding, of course. I’m not banned from Thailand. They’re would never ban me. All I do there is spend ridiculous amounts of money, and I don’t even talk to Bar Girls! I just blow it all on staying in a ridiculously overpriced loft with a bad pool just so I can be 5ft from the bar I’m obsessed with and all of the beautiful, wonderful, amazing people who frequent it. Love that for me!

Anyway, so that’s why I had to come back to Hong Kong. Now I blow all my money on a tiny little shoebox apartment where I somehow magically lose things like hair clips and my phone, which makes absolutely no sense. It must be the faeries. When in doubt, always blame the faeries, or the “little people,” as we say in South Dakota. Well, I don’t know if that’s what “they” say, but it’s definitely what Mad Dog used to say!

So yeah, I was definitely supposed to do real, actual, productive things today. Not sure that’s going to happen, which is unfortunate because I have things I really need to get done.

Instead I am sitting here at my favourite brunch place, right on the patio, in the heat, away from the air on like a crazy person, sweating it all out as I watch the world pass me by. I love it.

So many hot beefcakes walking by on their way to and from the gym on their lunch break. I love it. Obsessed with the beefcakes. Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight! Won’t somebody take the shadows away!

Everyone here thinks I’m so crazy for sitting in the heat instead of the aircon. Like, I get it, the weather is insane, but I really need to sweat it out. I keep telling them I used to live in a very, very, very cold place and now all I want to do is be out in the sun and sweat all my shitty feelings out. They don’t understand me. It is what it is.

Here is my real question: how do I get paid to sit in a restaurant and just watch people on the street? This is the only job I know how to do. Everything else is just, like, so stressful, you guys.

I literally do not know how people exist in the full-time corporate job world. They are all so fucking weird. They have no personal lives, no hobbies, no personalities, nothing. They just work, work, work, and then maybe go to the gym, and then they wonder why they’re all so unhappy, and then they make the rest of us feel bad about not being obsessed with work like that are.

Like, listen, I get it. I hate my family too. Honestly, the majority of them are terrible, narcissistic people who treat other people like shit and literally cannot handle being talked to in the same way. All I’ve ever wanted to do is get the fuck away from them. But I don’t throw myself into a job just to escape from that. That’s how you end up dying in a pile of your own shit, just like my dad. It is what it is.

I still remember the last thing my dad said to me before we all went to bed and I found him almost dead the next day. His last words to me were: “Can you pick me up a chocolate mocha frappachino?”

And then we found him half-dead in bed the next morning and then he was in a coma for two weeks and I had to be the one who called in the medicine man to read him his last rights because my stupid, evil mother was too drunk to literally do anything except be mean to me, and then I had to watch him die in the hospital bed right in front of me.

And then literally everyone in that stupid fucking shithole town was a giant fucking asshole about it, because that’s who they are and that’s what they do. Thanks again for ruining my life, Dad! So grateful for everything??????

Lol, yeah, whatever, at least I get to live in Asia now. Just like I always dreamed. Literally. My life only got better because my dad died. How fucking fucked up and shitty is that? It is what it is.

And this is why I have no idea how to have fun.

This is why men are a problem. They think it’s MY job to provide “fun” for them and then they get mad when they have to do actual emotional labor in the middle of the fucking blackout they put me in by plying me with booze nonstop.

So fucking stupid. Clean up your own mess, bro. I can’t do that for you. I will never do that for you. I am not your fucking mommy, okay? I’m not picking up your dirty underwear off the floor or doing your laundry or cleaning your house or cooking you food. Your job is to stand there looking sexy while fanning me with a giant palm leaf, then carry me away on my solid gold throne. Okay? Okay.

This is why I’m not married. My spirit did not reincarnate multiple times just to serve some stupid fucking man who won’t even wash his own dirty asshole. Fuck you and your fucking patriarchy. I am the motherfucking Queen!

“You don’t have to love me. You don’t even have to like me. But you will respect me. Why? Because I’m a Boss!” -Kelis

SO I had some things to do today. Instead I’m sitting here on the patio writing crazy, unhinged things and having notions. This is exactly why my Irish ancestors got on that fucking boat and came to America. Their dream was for the 7th generation ahead of them to sit on a patio and write and make art and look fabulous while doing fucking NOTHING! No work down by the docks or in the factories or on the farm. No having 18 children, half of which died somewhere along the way. No nothing. I don’t have to do shit now, just like my ancestors dreamed. Yet somehow, I still feel so unfulfilled…

I have definitely sat in the heat for too long. It’s starting to make me sick. I need to go inside and sit by the aircon.

Okay, okay, okay, done done done.

Now inside. The sound of the construction on the Temple is very loud. I like this spot because it’s close to the historic Man Mo Temple. Man Mo is the god of “literature.” I always stop at the gates on my way home to say a prayer. I love the “Under Construction” vibe right now. It makes me feel better about myself. Like, yes, we have stood the test of time and survived, for better or for worse. That being said, sometimes we need to take some time to fix ourselves up for the sake of future preservation. It is what it is. I love it. I’m so here for it.

I should get a job as a bar cat. Like the meme. I don’t work. I don’t care. I just sit in the wrong spot and somehow run the entire place. Like Andrew did at Bloody Mary’s. Is my dream to actually be Andrew? Is that why I was so obsessed with him for like, what, ten years? Who even knows anymore!

That’s the second time this week I’ve thought about Andrew. I haven’t thought about Andrew in a long time. I mean, how could I? Between the Hot Beef Stew and The Russian, my heart, mind, and va-jay-jay has been extremely occupied. There’s very little space for a fictional character these days. I just meet so many attractive men. Sometimes I still look at Andrew’s old pictures and think to myself, “Wow, I really thought this guy was hot.” Goes to show how slim the pickins really are out there on the lone prairie. His catchphrase should be, “Yikes on Bikes!”

I will always remember this chapter as that time I was so desperate to get railed by a hot sexy beefcake that I wrote two whole books about the bartender I thought was really hot from far away, but only in a dark room.

Just kidding. I just thought of him now sitting in the doorway with his mountain man beard, looking mean and old and cranky AF, wearing some ancient fucking t-shirt from some concert he went to in the 90’s, taking off his baseball cap and wiping his forehead in exhaustion, as if he had actually done something productive today. Like maybe he mowed the lawn without the t-shirt and hat on, and then walk down to fetch the mail while I was riding by on my white horse, and that’s why he’s tired, or something? IDK!

Sorry, wow, wait, did it just get hotter in here? Because I’m literally sitting under the aircon right now and I just started sweating again.

I mean… he might not be the Pabst Blue Ribbon winner of the Magic Mike Live contest, but something about that really did it for me. I mean, you don’t see me sitting here writing two novels about The Russian. It is what it is.

I know I love him because I have lived my whole life being screamed at and called crazy, and he’s the only person who ever did that in a way that actually turned me on. I was so into it. I was like, “Please, yell at me more. I don’t know why I like this but I do.”

I don’t like it coming from anyone else, but when you do it, it’s like… somehow the hottest thing ever? No one knows.

Awww, my Andrew. I loved my Andrew. I really did. At least, I thought I did. Let’s be real here. I have never been in an actual, meaningful long-term relationship. I just stare at hot guys from far away and fantasize about what it would be like to have them fan me with a giant palm leaf. I don’t know jack shit about love.

But if you asked me if I’ve ever been in love with anyone… I would tell you it was Andrew, every single time. I loved him. I really did. I don’t know what real love is… but… whatever I felt was pretty close to that. I hope he’s happy now, wherever he is. Maybe Seattle? Who even knows these days? I don’t know. I don’t look for him or check in on him or ask about him. I don’t have to. He just visits me in my dreams…

*sigh*

Anyways, yes, what the fuck was I talking about again? My dad dying? The fact that I moved to the other side of the planet just to be this fucked up all the time? Maybe something about paying child support so your passport doesn’t get revoked? Who even knows anymore!

I really need to eat something. All I had for a dinner was a plastic cup full of olives and feta cheese to go with the two bottles of wine I drank after eating nothing all day.

I think sometimes I act this way because I just want to die and I lack the courage to just jump off the rooftop when the void calls to me. So I just kill myself slowly with alcohol and cigarettes and men instead. It is what it is.

Anyway, I can’t kill myself. I’ve already tried multiple times. It never works. Someone up there wants me to live, to survive, to give something back to this world. I don’t understand. If I’m still alive after all of this, I must have some kind of purpose. I just don’t know what that purpose is. I just know when I look at worksheets about teaching grammar to children, I feel absolutely nothing at all. It means nothing to me. I’m just here for the job, the visa, the paycheck. I can’t make a difference in this world. I’m just a woman, standing here in front of a white board, asking for a steady paycheck without the cost of being bullied at work.

It is what it is.

I really need to eat something. I haven’t eaten anything substantial in like… at least two days. At least.

It is what is.

I like that scene in the Darjeeling Limited at the end when they all leave their baggage behind and board the train, waving it all goodbye. That’s the vibe right now. I just want to leave my impossibly heavy suitcases behind and hop that train to the next shitty little village in India, and do yoga with a giant snake, and just have fun and live life and have a good time.

I wish I was fun. I just want to have fun. Someone, please, teach me how to have fun. I just want to have some fun!

Okay, I’m done now. I really do need to eat something or I will actually pass out in this “brunch concept” of a restaurant right now.

The End!

BLOG: The Great Mystery

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Thursday.

Today is The Day That Doesn’t Exist, aka May 35th. I can’t actually write about it, so you will just have to look it up. This is an example of what people actually mean when they talk about censorship in China. That rule is for Big Important Stuff, not my small potatoes blog where I talk about my narcissistic family and the crappy small town I used to live in.

The people I write about think, “I don’t like what she said because it hurts MY feelings and makes ME look bad, therefore she shouldn’t be allowed to say it or write it all!” Then they turn around and continue treating me the exact crappy same way with ZERO self-awareness whatsoever. So it’s okay for them to be assholes to me, but I’m not allowed to be an asshole back. I should be censored for speaking to them the exact same way they speak to and about me!

You know what we call that?

Delusional AF.

Hope ya’ll enjoyed your reality check. You’re not that important in the grand scheme of things, and neither am I. It is what it is. I am at peace with this. That’s why I still do what I do without shame. Just take the same dumb advice you’re always giving me and just, like, get over it already!!!!!

Yeah, how see how shitty that sounds?

Exactly.

Anyway, yesterday was pretty uneventful. I mostly slept because I absolutely did not sleep after finding that cockroach in my kitchen sink the other night.

Oh yeah, so nobody told me until later that you’re not supposed to leave the corpse unattended because it attracts more. LUCKILY FOR ME, it did not attract more, so I came home to find the same singular dead cockroach upside down in my sink. So gross!

Anyway, I was just tipsy enough to give it a New Orleans Jazz funeral, which means I sang “I’ll Fly Away” as I scooped it up with the big kitchen spoon and dumped it in a trash bag. Then I danced down the hall swinging the (closed) bag around like a rag and dumped it in the trash. Perhaps now it will break free of whatever miserable reincarnation cycle its stuck in that turned it into a cockroach and level up in the next life. You just can never be too sure with things like that…

It’s a good thing my neighbor was there to kill it for me because it is 100% against my spiritual belief system to bring harm to an animal like that. I do not kill insects or spiders or cockroaches or anything. That’s why I have to enlist help and why I still feel guilty enough later to do something ridiculous like sing to a dead cockroach. Again, I am at peace with this. It is what it is.

As you may have guessed, I immediately started spiraling after the cockroach jazz funeral and ended up on the roof crying all alone about everyone I know who died in a very short, five year period of time. It’s a lot. My dad, my Irish grandmother, Mad Dog, my favourite aunt, my uncle I lived with in NY, both of my dogs that we had for 13 years, three of my cats (including my favourite), a very good friend of mine, and one of my favourite professors from university.

Oh, and then there was the whole “losing my entire family” thing after my dad died because my mom realized it was finally her big opportunity to make me the Family Black Sheep, just like she’s always dreamed. How dare I stand up for myself and assert myself! I must be forever punished for my insubordinate behavior with the silent treatment!

Yeah, it’s a lot! Especially when you’re on the other side of the world, all alone with no one to talk to about any of it. Yeah, I cried a lot. It is what it is.

I sensed my neighbor come outside in the middle of it. Doing yoga increases one’s awareness of other energies, so you can sense people when they’re standing there, even if you can’t see them. Just Basic Jedi Mind Trick Stuff. Also, I can smell the smoke from his cigarettes. Dead giveaway right there.

He didn’t come over to me or say anything. I just felt him standing there watching me sadly, as if he was thinking, “It’s not really about the cockroach, is it?”

I found myself saying aloud, “You don’t understand. You still have a family you’re close to. You’re not all alone out here like I am.”

He didn’t say anything. He kept hiding in the dark, but I knew he was there. I could smell the smoke from his cigarette. A few minutes later, he went inside.

I think he’s a good friend. He’s been very helpful to me in so many ways. I’ve legitimately felt much calmer since he confronted me on the rooftop and asked me why I’m always acting so crazy. It’s one of those things like… I really just needed to be seen and heard and acknowledged in that moment, and he did that for me.

You really have to think about it from his POV. He’s seeing me when I’m not wearing the mask or out in public pretending to be someone I’m not yet in order to “fake it until I make it.” He’s seeing me crying on the rooftop on bad days and coming home from a night out drunkenly singing and dancing. He’s got the Front Row View of the entire show, completely raw, unedited, and unfiltered. He’s seeing me in Full Unhinged Crazy Mode, and instead of judging me, he reached out to help me. That means a lot.

I feel bad about objectifying him now. He’s not just some hot beefcake. He’s a human being with thoughts and feelings, just like I am.

Awww.

See? I don’t hate men. I just need to deal with men who aren’t complete assholes. That’s hard to find in this world.

Honestly, I think I’m just not used to kindness in this world. Most of the people I’ve known in my life have been really mean, negative, and on a mission to hurt others in order to elevate themselves. So when someone is actually genuinely kind to me, it’s incredibly jarring and shocking.

I still can’t believe he actually sat down with me and gave me real, practical advice for finding a job that legitimately worked. No one in my entire life has ever done that. They either give me some big lecture or tear me down to the point where I feel like I don’t deserve to exist.

The point is that all they do is speak words at me. There is no actual meaningful action behind their words. They’re just saying whatever sounds good to them so they can pat themselves on the back and say, “See? I tried, but SHE didn’t LISTEN!”

That’s because all you did was talk at me. You didn’t actually do anything meaningful to help me change the situation. That’s not helpful. That’s just basic narcissism. You think you’re a brilliant genius who knows everything and is better than everyone, so you talk down to everyone else as if they are beneath you. Then you wonder why I don’t listen. What are you actually saying? What are you actually doing?

To me, you might as well be typing out the same 5 paragraphs every person I’ve ever met has written to me about all the reasons why they hate me and why I shouldn’t exist. That’s not helpful. No sane, rational person in this world would look at a pile of hate mail they got in response to looking for a job and think, “Wow, that was SO helpful! Thank you so much! I’ll remember this when I’m still broke and homeless and living on the streets. Thank god you were here to lecture me during my time in need! I really benefitted from that!”

Please know at this point, I really do ignore the pile of hate mail I get from everyone. Yep, I get it. You hate me, you hate my personality, you hate my writing, you hate everything I am and have ever been and ever will be, you don’t support me, you want to see me fail, you wish I was dead so you wouldn’t have to deal with me ever again, blah blah blah blah blah blah blah! Blah blah blah! Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah! Blah blah! Blah blah blah! Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah…

Gee, it’s a really a mystery why I never listened to any of those people! Someone get Agatha Christie on this case, stat! Surely she will be able to figure out why someone wouldn’t listen to some dumb fucking townie hick from the middle of nowhere dole out thinly-veiled personal attacks disguised as completely impractical life advice. That’s definitely one for the ages. Sure that’s the story that will be getting new film and TV remakes once a decade, at least.

Meanwhile, my neighbor solved that mystery fast. He just sat down with me and was like, “Ah, so you’re upset because you’re unemployed. I see. Let’s take a look at your CV and cover letter and fix it up to make you really shine. We’ll get you sorted, no worries.”

Anyway, I really appreciate how kind he has been to me. He really did not have to help me at all. I try to give him as much space as possible and don’t bother him unless it’s an emergency (such as a giant cockroach in my sink). Boundaries, right? I can’t be 100% needy all the time. I have to at least try to figure out as much of this on my own as I possibly can.

In the end, I think he was probably just sitting up there on the rooftop thinking, “How do I get my annoying neighbor to shut the fuck up? Let’s confront the problem directly and see what can be done to get it all sorted.”

It is now sorted. If there’s one thing British people are good at, it’s getting things sorted. They do not care for chaos. They care for calm, control, and order. Combined with the Hong Kong value of Efficiency Above All Other Things, this man found a way to deal with his crappy neighbor without being an asshole, and it worked. Good for him! I respect that.

Anyway, yeah, he’s awesome. I want to get him a snack from 7/11 or something to thank him. I’m big on gift-giving like that. It’s generally not very well-received for some reason, so maybe I won’t get him anything at all. I don’t know.

Anywayyyyyyyyyz…

Still waiting on the job thing. They asked me to come in next week to do a test run with some of the classes. I think that’s a good sign! They seem to invest a lot of time and energy into training. They said it was something like four months of training time, as opposed to my old company. They gave us one week of training total. If you make any mistakes during that week, you’re out on the street and you somehow owe them money for the trouble. Brutal.

No wonder my confidence was completely destroyed after that job. I barely had any in myself when I got here and then they destroyed what little I had. It took a whole year, numerous adventures, and many dates with hot, sexy beefcakes to build up a basic level of self-esteem. I’m not sure I even still have any. Yet somehow I am still here, still swimming around in this shark tank, still keeping my head just above water.

That explains why I’m still worrying over whether or not I will actually get the job, even though I was technically already offered the job and they’re in the process of doing the onboarding paperwork. I refuse to get comfortable. It could all still go horribly, horribly wrong. I could still end up homeless on the street with nowhere to go and no one to help me. The risk of homelessness is always there. Always. This is my greatest fear.

I just hope it all works out. Law of Attraction. Manifestation. Visualization. I am standing in a random alley surrounded by red lanterns and glowing lights, wearing a vintage emerald green qipao and holding a bouquet of pink roses, posing for an instagram influencer photoshoot. I am celebrating. I got the job. I got the visa. I got the apartment. I got the Chirkin. I did it. I am a real Hong Konger now. #Chinamaxxing.

So much to do today. Gotta run to the market and find all peppermint everything. I’m going to deep-clean my apartment and coat everything in peppermint oil. Burn peppermint-scented incense and candles. Cockroaches hate peppermint!

Maybe I’ll just buy myself a peppermint plant and keep it on the kitchen counter where I found the cockroach. Never again.

Nothing else to write today. Just grateful that I met so many people on this journey who helped me. I never would have made it this far on my own. I’m lucky for the kindness of strangers. I didn’t know people could be so nice. It is truly a jarring experience of the best kind.

Off now. Have a good day! Try to be kind to someone for no reason today instead of ganging up on them in an effort to ruin their life for your personal entertainment. I know, it’s hard, especially if you’re from South Dakota, but somehow… I think you’ll manage.

BLOG: Man vs Cockroach

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Oh my god. I can’t even right now.

Ew.

It’s so gross. I can’t.

Okay, so, like, I know the realities of city life… but… so far, I have not had any direct encounters with cockroaches in my own house. My safe space. My cave. My little retreat where I can hide from the world.

Tonight I experienced a home invasion from an extremely large cockroach. It was so big and so gross and it ran right at me when I walked over to my kitchen sink. Forever traumatized.

I cowered in fear on the other side of the apartment as it peaked out at me with its creepy little antenna from the sink. I couldn’t handle it. I just couldn’t. In that moment, I resorted to my primal cavewoman instincts and did the only thing I could think of: I called the nearest man for help.

This was my neighbor, who I had literally just spoken to on the roof maybe 20 minutes prior. Not even. So when I knocked on his door this time, I knew he wasn’t in a bad mood and I knew I wasn’t interrupting anything.

“What do you need?” he asked.

“There’s a cockroach in my sink and I need you to kill it for me. I can’t. I literally just can’t.”

He looked at me in disgust and replied, “And you want me to do it? Who do you think I am?!”

“I don’t know! Someone who has more experience dealing with cockroaches in Hong Kong than I do! You’re the one who has lived here your whole life!”

He reluctantly agreed and followed me into my studio to assess the situation.

“Wow, that’s a big one,” he said. “Gross.”

“Yeah, exactly! So do something about it!”

He went out into the stairwell to fetch the communal roach spray.

“Is that going to work?” I asked. “I thought they were indestructible.”

“They are,” he answered calmly. “But this generally works. You just have to spray it multiple times, like this.”

He sprayed the cockroach dead and left me to dispose of the remains alone. I couldn’t deal with it, so I changed my clothes and walked over to the cantina instead. Just you wait until I get three strawberry magaritas in me. I’ll go full Mexican Mafia on your bitchass, cockroach!

I realized as I walked up the stairs through Central that my confidence in my neighbor had been slightly shaken. He wasn’t as ready and willing to take charge of the situation as I had hoped. I mentally added, “Confident in his ability to take out a cockroach” to my checklist of requirements for a future partner.

In that moment, I couldn’t deal only think of my Russian. If he had been there, he would say, “Do not worry, Liz. I am big strong alpha male. I kill cockroach for you, then feed to bear I keep in pit back home in Mother Russia.”

Oh, if only.

That’s hot…

The other expat sitting at the bar tonight has not been helpful. He overheard me telling my friend this story and he said, “Just wait until the rats come into your apartment and run across your bed while you sleep.”

“Has this actually happened to you here?” I asked.

“Oh yeah,” he said with a sadistic laugh. “Just wait until the rats come.”

Pure fucking nightmare fuel.

Dear god.

You know, I was having a good day today before that happened.

Horrifying. I can’t even. Just the thought of its dead body waiting for me back in the sink is enough to fuel my nightmares for weeks. So fucking nasty and gross. I just can’t.

Now I’m mad at my neighbor for making me do this by myself. Like, come on, man. You’re a man, man! This is supposed to be your job!

Okay, enough dwelling on this. I need to get Mexican Mafia wasted and dispose of the body.

Have a good night!

BLOG: One Year Anniversary

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Tuesday.

One year ago last night I got on a plane to Dubai. One year ago today, I landed. There I was promptly dumped by my fake fiancé after 48 hours for being “Too Much.” He was ten years too young for me anyway, and not ready for real commitment.

Upon reflection, I really dodged a bullet on this one. I think I just let him sweet talk me for a year because it was what I really needed at the time. I knew deep in my heart it wasn’t going to work because we are from two very difficult cultures, but I let him tell me what I wanted to hear anyway. It’s what I needed at the time. It is what it is.

I spent two weeks in Dubai at a decently-priced resort doing nothing. I laying on a beach for half the day, then moved up to the pool to do the same thing with a slightly different vibe, and then I would go sit outside in the lounge and drink wine and eat za’atar pinza all night. Best vacation ever.

Then I came to Hong Kong and the craziness began. It’s been a journey ever since. Wow. I can’t believe I’ve been out here in Asia for a whole year. That is insane. I can’t believe it. I never, ever thought I would actually make it here, let alone live in a place like Hong Kong. Wild. Just wild.

Anyway, I spent yesterday celebrating my achievement by prepping for another job interview. Never heard back from the other place. This interview went surprisingly well. We were on the call for about an hour and 15 minutes, which is a good sign. She was very enthusiastic about my application and interview.

We were very much in agreement about our philosophies regarding workplace culture. I straight-up told her I had been in many negative work situations before and it’s part of the reason why I left the US. My old company here in HK was the same way and I just didn’t want to deal with it anymore. It’s really, really, really important to me to find a non-toxic workplace where I can grow and thrive.

She said they were going to run a quick background check with my old job just to check that there is a record of me actually working there. I also gave them the name of another teacher I knew there who I know for a fact will give me a good reference. Hopefully I can clear that hurdle.

Assuming said hurdle is cleared, we will start the onboarding process this week. She wanted to get my new visa application started by Friday. I would also like to do this, mostly because I’m sick of job hunting. I’m ready to sign that two-year contract, get that visa, and lock into a new apartment lease.

I did run a background check on this company as well. I learned my lesson about that, lol. Unlike my previous company, the reviews on Glassdoor were overall very positive. There was no negative internet trail dating back 15 years following them. They also seemed to be aware of my old company’s reputation. They said it without saying it.

My hopes are high. I did get three other responses from some of the applications I sent out on Saturday. Three callbacks and about two dozen rejections, lol. I guess we will find out if my old company is going to cause me a significant problem this week. Then I’ll know whether or not I should just call it quits on Hong Kong and go somewhere else to start all over again.

Not sure how I would do that at this point since I just risked everything on HK, but I’m not going to worry about that. I’m just manifesting a positive outcome for this application. I’m manifesting a positive outcome for my life.

I’ve been out of the prison that was South Dakota for a whole year now. I know that sometimes the memories drag me back there and I still feel that pain as if it were happening to me in the present, but overall… I would say it’s getting a lot better. It’s not my every day life anymore. It’s just the old memories on replay. The longer I stay out here, the more material I collect for my “new movie.” If I can replace the bad memories with good memories, eventually the bad ones won’t bother me anymore. So the theory goes, anyway.

I think I’m doing a pretty decent job of that so far. I’m definitely getting lots of inspiration from all the characters I meet and adventures I have. Can’t really complain today, to be honest. It’s been a struggle, but it’s worth it. I’m so close now, I can taste it. The life of stability, happiness, growth, and prosperity is close at hand.

Trust. Manifest. Happiness is on the way. Happiness is here in the now.

Some days I’m just so grateful to finally be away from my old life. It was so sad and so difficult and so painful. Every day felt like a nightmare I would never wake up from. Now I’m free! I’m free! I’m finally free!

And what am I doing with that freedom? Sitting by the aircon in my tiny shoebox studio with all the lights turned off because it’s too damn hot to do anything else, lol.

Time to suck it up and go to the beach or something, lol. Why do I even live on an island if I’m not going to the beach? Ugh. I have no idea how to just be carefree and have fun, I swear. I’m always too caught up in my depression and anxiety and bad memories. No fun whatsoever.

No wonder I was so easily duped by The Russian. He promised me fun and instead it was… well… it was really something, wasn’t it? It was definitely story material. Definitely felt more like I was working than playing. Not as much romancing as I hoped for. All I learned was not to mess with the “sailors” (aka short-term visitors to HK) anymore.

Hopefully the next one who comes along will know how to actually have fun. Or maybe he’ll be another creep who wants to meet me at a bar full of finance bros who just want to drug and grope me like the most recent one was. Who knows? Let’s just stay open and hope for the best.

Off now. I have an apartment to clean and a long list of errands to run. Have a good day!

BLOG: Make Me An Offer I Can’t Refuse

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Sunday.

At brunch. And by brunch, I mean I woke up at 2:30pm after staying out all night partying at the gay club and somehow dragged myself up the stairs for a Bloody Mary.

Who am I? Where am I? Ugh.

Yesterday was ridiculous. I went to the reggae festival and it was a whole thing. So in my mind, I thought… outdoors, sunshine, everyone dressed in rainbows, chill vibes. I brought a blanket in my bag for the lawn and an extra bottle of water. Then I got there and it was a bunch of super upright people standing around in a dark room. Very jarring. Not what I was expecting at all.

I immediately freaked out and had an anxiety attack. I really, really, really struggle to face down a room full of strangers like that alone. It’s literally, like, my worst fear on earth. I cannot handle it at all. So I freaked out and left. I ran all the way back to the safety of my apartment (which was like 5 blocks away) and calmed myself down. I gave myself a pep talk, then I went back for the headliners. I’m not going to miss out on seeing reggae legends live just because I had some stupid anxiety attack.

I went back and enjoyed the last two sets. I still hate being alone in a room full of people like that. It was like… really hard. I felt more like I was trying to just get through the experience rather than fully enjoying it. Not quite the chill, relaxed rastamon vibes I was going for, but whatever.

Anyway, yeah, I got through it, so… yeah.

Afterwards, I went to the Cantina. There I made a new friend. We went to the gay club together and danced all night. I think we were out until like 4 or 5am? Something like that. Don’t really remember tbh. I just remember dancing a lot, because that’s what I always do when I’m there. I love the gay club. It’s very safe there. I can be in there surrounded by beautiful men without having to worry about anything.

That being said, I do have some weird interactions there. There are the regulars, of course, but then there are the weird tourists who come through. They tend to be… how do I say this politely? Somewhat messy.

I meet a lot of people who pretend to be one person in their every day lives and then live a secret life they are ashamed of by night. I find it very sad sometimes. They should just be free to be themselves and live their truths without fear or shame. Instead they are hiding in the darkness, crying on my shoulder in the bathroom while coked up to the max. Sad.

We still have fun anyway. It is what it is.

One thing that bothers me still is when I tell people there I am bi and they ask me to “pick a side.” That’s literally not the point at all. The point is to have whatever you want at the all-you-can-eat buffet. It’s not to order the same meal from the same restaurant. Plus, it’s not really about the person’s gender. It’s about their soul. Yeah, I mean, sometimes, I can be really shallow and go for attractive people simply because they are attractive. But when it comes to a potential partner, I’m looking for a soul match. I’m not so concerned with the packaging it comes in.

That being said… I think it’s very obvious what my preference is. I just don’t have enough experience with women to really talk about it. Men are easy. They will never say no to sex. They will literally stick their dick into a pie. They do not care at all. Women, however… women are not so easy. That’s why I’ve never managed to bed one. It’s too much goddamn work! Yet somehow, you do not see me turning my ability to fuck a woman into a memeable grift preying on lonely, vulnerable teenagers. Amazing.

I have been attracted to women before but I have not been intimate with one, so I do not actually know what I prefer. I mean, you know, maybe I think I want to be with a man, but it’s only because I don’t have any experience with women. Maybe I’ll meet a woman who blows my mind. Who knows? I think it’s best to stay open.

Anyway, blah blah blah, no one cares. What’s important is the results of my job application spamming yesterday. I can’t remember if I said this, but I heard back from one place almost immediately. Like maybe one hour later? They sent me a list of questions, I filled it out, and they sent me back an offer immediately.

The other place did not do that. They interviewed me, but they never put any kind of offer on the table. They didn’t even tell me what kind of contract they would theoretically offer me. They just said they would call me at the end of the month, which they have yet to do.

The current offer on the table is pretty solid. The hours are better, the pay is better, and they have health insurance. They’re also offering me a two year contract, which is great because most of the apartments here ask for a two-year lease.

It looks very stable. I want stable. I want to be able to work and not worry about it. I’m definitely a commitment phobe because the idea of me signing away my life for two years freaks me out, but it means two years in Hong Kong, and that’s what I want.

Also, I hate job hunting. I don’t want to job hunt anymore. I just want to lock in. Show up and do the damn thing. Get my money and go home. I don’t want to stress out, I don’t want to think about it, I don’t want to take it home, I don’t want any drama whatsoever. I just want to clock in, make money, clock out, and go home to write and eat in my fabulous apartment. The end.

I have to complete a little English test for them, which I am not in the right frame of mind to do because I am hungover, but I will do it anyway. It’s not hard. It’s just correcting spelling and punctuation and grammar and all that. Very easy.

Easy except for the part where they are expecting to hear from me today and all I want to do is go home and get in bed and pass out. I haven’t stayed out all night in months and now the one time I do, it’s when I suddenly and unexpectedly need to get something done on a short timeline. Ridiculous.

The tone of the email they sent back after I filled out the questionnaire was very amusing. I could tell they were familiar with my old company’s reputation because they emphasized the fact that they believe in diversity and value work-life balance. These things matter to me. That is literally the reason I left my last company, which they did ask me to explain on the questionnaire. I said I liked the job but the company wasn’t a good fit, so I left to go on an adventure and write a book about it. Now I’ve been back in HK for 6 months job hunting. The recruiter’s response was really enthusiastic. She was like, “Oh you sound like you would be perfect for our team!”

One of the things that helped me was my neighbor’s advice about embracing my Americanness. Hong Kongers love Americans, especially when it comes to English teachers.

The reason is because Hong Kongers value speed, efficiency, and directness over all things. American English tends to be extremely direct (at least if you are on the coasts), as opposed to British English, which is generally much more abstract and elaborate. British people use a lot of extra words that don’t need to be there. They use large words nobody knows the meaning of. They speak in metaphor. They will talk circles around you for 7 hours and never make their point.

Americans, especially East Coasters like myself, do not have time for any of that bullshit. Neither do Hong Kongers. Hong Kongers don’t have time for anything. They’re busy AF. You better make your point fast, or else. So I have learned they value American English more because of its efficiency. As it turns out, I also value efficiency, which is why I hated the “Fake Midwest Nice” passive-aggression so much. It’s such a waste of time. Like, why are you making everything 100x harder than it needs to be? Just be honest and direct and upfront. Stop wasting everyone’s fucking time with your crazy drama and inability to communicate. JFC. What are you even doing right now?

They’ve turned out all the lights in the restaurant. Lol. This is the hot new thing because of the energy crisis. Nothing says “l’ambiance” like candlelight, amiright?

I’ve actually gotten quite used to blackouts. They don’t happen here, but I did deal with them in India, Thailand, and Indonesia. I also dealt with them during hurricane season on the East Coast. I remember one year we didn’t have power for like 5 days. Rough. Anyway, I can handle it. Also, it’s a vibe.

When I was living in my traditional Thai-style apartment (not the giant loft) last summer, everyone in my neighborhood would turn their lights out at the same time every night and use tea lights instead. It would just get so hot outside. All you could really do was sit in front of the fan in total darkness.

Always good to know I can survive an apocalypse, I guess? Lol, it is what it is.

Soooo tired. Done writing for now. I want to finish this drink and head home. It feels like I’m at a turning point right now. A new era begins….

BLOG: Sun is Shining

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Saturday.

Currently sitting in my apartment with all of the lights off and the aircon on blast. It’s so hot here in HK this week. I’ve been out in the sun in small bursts to give myself microdoses of Vitamin D. It really is doing a lot for my mood to have more sun exposure.

Had a productive day today. Went onto my local job board account and spent a few hours on it. I went through my saved jobs list, applied for all the teaching jobs, deleted all the expired posts, and left all the writing/editing/journalism/marketing posts on the board.

I think I applied to something like 65 teaching jobs today. I literally just cleared my list. Much to my surprise, I heard back from one company almost immediately. They sent me an email asking for follow up information, which I sent back in a timely manner.

Now I plan to make a different resume for the 75 remaining jobs on my list, all of which fall into the writing/editing/journalism/marketing field. I’m just going to throw it out there and see how it goes. I don’t know how the visa situation is with those.

Right now the most important thing is to find a company that fits well and provides a visa. The visa is probably the most important thing. I really need to get that solid year of Hong Kong work experience on my CV before I do anything else.

I’m not going to worry about it anymore today. I’m getting ready for the reggae-ska festival tonight. I’ve been looking forward to this for over a month now. Yeah, I have to go by myself, but whatever. I’m not missing out on this just because I’m alone. It’s been forever since I went to a reggae festival. I need this in my life to heal my soul. It is what it is.

I definitely regret not going to Latin Carnival last week. That’s why I vowed to myself I wouldn’t miss out on tonight just because I’m alone. Maybe I’ll meet other people there who also like reggae. Reggae friends are good friends to have. Some might even say the best kind of friends to have. 🙂

I feel a shift in my energy field lately. I think it’s just from knowing I’ve survived an entire year abroad on my own and haven’t drowned yet. It’s really motivating me to give myself that extra push and just go for it. I have nothing to lose. I came, I saw, I conquered. I did the damn thang. I have nothing to feel ashamed of or insecure about. I’m awesome!

Okay, off to get ready now. What should I wear? Should I go full rainbow dress? Maybe!

Have a good day!

BLOG: I Wrote A Book!

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Thursday night. Here I am at the Cantina. I was going to go to the pizza place for their party but it was too hot and there were no tables available. So now I am here.

I did not go out with that random guy last night. Good for me. I made a good life choice. Sure, I had to coach myself through it, but in the end I decided it was best just to ghost him. I just don’t think anyone who wants to go on a first date to The Wolf is going to be someone of quality character. It is what it is.

Instead, I went to the health cafe and got myself a salad and a juice. I sat there and wrote for awhile, then went home to watch Emily in Paris. It was boring, sure, but I woke up bright and early in the morning with my memory fully intact and no regrets about the previous night. Well done, me.

The heat warning was crazy today, so I did not leave the house. I stayed in my cozy little studio cave, hacking away at my manuscript. I charted out the plot the way I learned to do at the Paris Writing Workshop. Now I’m sitting here trying to make some creative decisions about the characters and major plot points.

Yes, it is based on my life, but I also have to be willing to cut things that don’t fit into the neat little journey I’ve neatly laid out on the page. It does need to be commercially viable. Sometimes that means cutting out things that aren’t going to be relatable or just don’t quite fit into the story I’m trying to tell.

This is why I keep an Island of Lost Guys. Who is going to make the Final Cut? They can’t all be in there. Not all of them are relevant to the plot. Some of them were just one night stands! Like the Russian. Look at us over here desperately grasping for straws to make this guy someone of interest and substance when he’s nothing more than a fuckboy sailor with girls in every port. Who cares if he can wrangle a crocodile and ride a motorcycle? It’s not important to the plot!

There’s one guy very early one I’m debating cutting right now: Levi Gene. I feel like it’s too much. It’s not really necessary to the plot. Like it’s a whole side show that can be replaced by a magical plot device called “a check for $50,000 magically appears out of nowhere.” Did this happen in real life? No. Does it move the plot along without adding this unnecessary clown show that I’m not actually proud of to distract us from the main point? Yes.

Levi Gene is the Tom Bombadill of this novel. It’s an interesting little side show in the bigger story, but when it’s time to make the movie, he’s going straight to the cutting room floor.

I am actually trying to write this as if it will be turned into a Netflix show one day, so I am going to take a lot of liberties to make it commercially viable. It needs to be vague enough to be relatable. Sometimes, a lot of times, most times, I do a lot of dumb fucking shit that normal people can’t relate to. This has to be a story people can see themselves in. They have to be able to put themselves into the shoes of my character. That means she has to be relatable to bored housewives, corporate career women, university students, bartenders with a degree from the School of Life, and everyone else in between.

No pressure. I was built for this. I’ve trained my whole life for this. This is my Destiny. This novel was meant to be written. Everything I’ve ever done leading up to now has been all for this moment. I can totally do this.

No pressure at all.

See? This year was not wasted! I got a whole novel out of it! That’s exactly what I said I would do when my first HK job didn’t work out. I said, “Okay, the universe is clearly leading me in a different direction than I intended. Let’s follow the path and see where it takes us. In the end, I’ll write a book about it.”

And now here we are, writing a book about it.

It’s always been my dream to live and write abroad. And I did it! I finally did it!

I don’t need anyone else to be proud of me today. I am proud of me today. I am out here doing the goddamn thing.

I did it. I really did it. I lived abroad for an entire year and now I’m writing a book about it.

I can’t believe I finally did it. And I’m celebrating like this? Nah, fam! We definitely need to throw a bigger party this weekend.

I never, ever, ever thought in a million years I would ever get the chance to live in a place like Hong Kong. Wow. I truly feel like the luckiest girl in the whole world right now…

BLOG: The Wolf of Peel Street

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Wednesday. Here we are at the coffee shop. Same as always, same as always.

What is there to write about today? Hmm… Well…

Once upon a time (aa back in December), I met some random expat bro at The Wolf. Can’t quite remember where he said he was from. Hungary? Bulgaria? Something like that. He worked in Shenzhen at the time, but now he has moved here. Somehow, he remembered me (they always do) and messaged me out of the blue to ask me out for “coffee.” Apparently, by coffee, he actually meant Prime Time Happy Hour at The Wolf.

As you may recall, The Wolf is the Finance Bro Bar where I was offered a line of cocaine off of a dirty bar toilet, then groped outside of the bathroom while everyone at the bar watched and did nothing. Sounds like a pretty unsafe situation to return to, right? Right.

On the one hand, I could go and write about my observations in a cleverly-titled blog called “The Wolf of Peel Street.”

On the other hand, I’ve been to this place before, I’ve calculated the risk factor there, and I just don’t think it’s worth it to put myself in a dangerous situation like that again. As we all know, Men + Bars = Disaster Waiting to Happen.

I’m also trying to make healthier life choices, like doing more yoga, eating more salads, and frequenting the neighborhood juice bar instead of an actual bar. Nothing about this situation screams “healthy.”

I’m thinking… not. I guess we’ll see if I change my mind at 5pm. I don’t think I will. I’m still mooning over The Russian. I don’t need more problems coming from the Eastern Bloc. Let’s change regions next time, shall we? Maybe take a trip back to Latin America, where the men know how to rolls their tongues and move their hips.

Just saying.

What other news in the world is there? Oh yes, only the most exciting kind of news: The Kardashians are Taking Hong Kong!

Yes! It’s true. Kim K herself is opening a SKIMS store in my old neighborhood (aka Times Square, Causeway Bay). I don’t know if that means she will physically be here filming the show, but I strongly suspect it does. I’m not crazy enough to think I could meet her, but maybe I could stand in line at the store and see her from a short distance away. Assuming I am still living here in November, of course. And that I don’t get crushed by a flock of tourists from the Mainland in the process…

Love it. I don’t care what anyone thinks. KUWTK has gotten me through some hard times in life. They’ve been my imaginary family when my real family has let me down. It’s one of my ultimate comfort shows. Sometimes I just want to sit around the table and eat a giant salad and talk shit about whatever with my sisters. Unfortunately, my real sisters are not in my life. That’s why I watch the Kardashians do it on their show. It’s not that deep. It just is what it is.

I wonder which hotel she will stay at? The Peninsula? The Mandarin Oriental? The Four Seasons? Will she go on the Escalator? Will she take the Star Ferry to Kowloon? Will she visit Macau?

I hope it’s not one of those trips like the India episode where they flew there for like two days and were too jet-lagged to do anything. I was pretty disappointed in that episode, honestly. I was just hoping for so much more.

Lol, I remember last year when I was doing magic mushroom therapy and I kept hallucinating that Kim K and Paris Hilton were dressed up in lab coats asking me questions and talking to me. That was wild.

I remember watching the India episode before doing my MM therapy session and I got caught in some weird loop where I was wandering through a spice market looking for Aladdin. I kept pacing around my apartment asking aloud, “Where’s Aladdin? Where’s Aladdin? where’s Aladdin?” My brother and cat were both like… WTF. Then I got really sick and had a super intense flashback of my relationship with my Persian ex-boyfriend, whose favourite childhood movie was… you guessed it… Aladdin.

Wild.

Brains are crazy, like I’ve said. I actually really benefitted from doing magic mushroom therapy. You have to treat it like actual therapy though. It can be really, really, really ugly and unpleasant. I basically had to take a dose, intentionally expose myself to various things that would trigger my worst traumas, and then relive them from a significant distance in a safe space. It really sucked while I was doing it, but it worked. I don’t get the flashbacks or nightmares anymore, at least not specifically related to that time in my life. I still get them in regards to my family, but hopefully that will go away with time.

I mainly used it to work through my PTSD related to my time in the Troubled Teen Industry. That is why I was specifically hallucinating Paris Hilton standing there talking to me. She’s leading the charge on the TTI stuff. Kim K was her lawyer.

Yet another one of those experiences I could write about for a legitimate publication if only I had my shit together. I do not have my shit together. Sigh.

What else happened? Hmm. Well, I talked to The Publisher. I haven’t talked to him in two months, apparently. Whoops! He was very happy to hear about my progress. At least someone is. He just said, “You did it, Betsey. You went there and you did the thing and you survived and you wrote about the entire experience. You did it. I’m proud of you.”

Thank you. Like I said, at least someone is proud of me, lol. No one, including myself, thought I was going to make it this far. But here I am, standing tall and proud, alive and well in Hong Kong SAR today!

I explained I’m only in documentation mode right now in regards to my daily adventures. I officially have a plan for this book, which I developed after piecing together that first manuscript draft back in January. I have a certain endpoint in mind now. I just need to manifest it!

Speaking of manifesting, I need to manifest a clean apartment. I picked up my second load of laundry late last night, so it’s all still sitting in the bag. I need to put it all away. It’s the perfect excuse to stay in my little cave and enjoy the aircon, which I definitely want to do today. The heat index is… yeah. Plus I was already outside doing yoga earlier this morning. No need to be out in the mid-afternoon sun.

Anything to take my mind off of the job thing. More rejections in my inbox. Really starting to panic now. I’m so ready to go back to work and open a new bank account and sign a two-year apartment lease and pay off my credit card bills. I don’t want to pack up and move, again, and start all over with the paperwork, again, and go into debt, again, and feel like this year was nothing more than a vacation from reality I took on a whim.

Manifesting. Manifesting. Manifesting.

I am a Hong Konger!