BLOG: And The Balls Win Again

Tuesday evening.

Against my better judgment, I decided to brave the rain and venture up to the Mid-Levels for the Quiz Night I was invited to. The person who invited me is not here. So now I am sitting here at the bar all alone, watching everyone else play trivia, just like I did back in SD. Wow, yeah, I know, I really feel like I’ve come so far in life, lol. Ridiculous.

I really thought my life would look different at this point. I guess it’s true what they say. Wherever you go, there you are. And here I am, alone at the bar, as always.

Damn. I’m disappointed. I was totally all about the Secret Society thing. I guess it’s not a secret if I write about it, lol. Oh well!

I’m kidding, by the way. It’s not a secret at all. It’s like when I worked at “Regal’s Club” back in Verm. It’s technically a private club for members only, but anyone can go there. I had to learn the names of all the members and their usual drinks. I completely get the concept. It’s not lost on me. I’m just make a joke about it being a “Secret Society” because I can.

The good news is that there are some very good looking men in here. There are good looking men everywhere in Hong Kong. The whole island is just crawling with them. They don’t always have the best personalities, but it’s fine. They don’t have to have a good personality. They just have to look good without a shirt on.

It is what it is.

My concern now has turned to how I am going to make it home in the pouring rain. Obviously I brought an umbrella. However, it is still a 15-20 minute walk downhill in the pouring rain. I feel stupid for venturing out on this type of night, but oh well.

Hong Kong is so wild to me. I never know what to expect from this place. I love the song that goes, “You’ll find more than you bargained for when you come to Hong Kong!” If there is one thing I’ve learned this year, it’s that this phrase is true.

I just want y’all to know that including the word “Balls” in an all-male trivia team name is, in fact, a global phenomenon. Men are so ridiculous. It is what it is.

Anyway, I’m looking forward to my mini-break to Macao tomorrow. The hotel I booked is really nice. I got it for super cheap since it’s a weekday and I have membership perks. I love the thrill of getting a good deal on something travel related. I won’t be able to use the pool since it will be raining, but I will get to take some good photos from my seaside balcony, take a luxurious bath in the gigantic tub, and get some writing done at the fancyass desk. I am in it to win it, fam.

Fun Fact: luxury hotels are, in fact, my favourite place to write. I don’t know why. The more palatial, the better. They’re just inspiring. Trust me, I’ve stayed in some real shitholes on my travels. I can’t write in a bedbug-ridden motel off the highway that looks like something straight from a horror movie. I need a terry cloth robe and slippers and room service. Why do you think I keep blowing so much money on that stupid hotel in Bangkok? It’s the perfect place to write! Which is why I always do all my writing at the little sidewalk coffee stand next door.

Oh, I miss Bangkok. I’ve been getting signs from the universe about it again. There’s just something about Thailand…

The problem is that I love it too much. That’s why we cannot be together. It’s not Thailand, it’s me. I’m not a rich old western man with a lot of money looking for a much-younger Thai wife. I don’t belong there!

I’m glad I came out anyway, even if it didn’t turn out as planned. It’s always better to be out soaking up the Hong Kong energy than to be sitting at home watching Netflix and eating ramen noodles and snacks from 7/11. Hong Kong inspires the fuck out of me. I love it here.

I was debating earlier if it was “worth it” to me to give up my dream of living in Paris to come out here to Asia instead. The answer is definitely yes. Paris was always this imaginary dream escape place for me where everything was always perfect. When I was the Paris Writing Workshop, I realized that fantasy was holding me back from exploring the rest of the world and really understanding reality.

Here in Asia, shit gets real so fast. I have no illusions about the reality of life here in Hong Kong, or in Bangkok, or in Bali, or India, or the GCC. Coming here to Asia opened my world up in ways I never expected. I always knew I would end up to be the Peace Corps type. I fully expected that someday I would live in some random little village somewhere in Africa, showering with a bucket and helping out around camp. Living in India was definitely an adjustment, but the reality is that I didn’t mind the blackouts or the monsoon or the bucket showers.

I never thought I would be fighting for my life to stay afloat in a place like Hong Kong, or living it up in a luxury loft in Bangkok, or following around a group of sex workers through the VIP lounges of Dubai, or spend a weekend in a gigantic villa in Bali, or any of the other totally crazy, completely ridiculous things I’ve done in between.

Wild.

The truth is that I don’t need this. I don’t need to write about this, whatever this is. It’s what I call “extra material.” I’ve already charted out the novel/show I have in mind two weeks ago. I got some good feedback on it. I already have an entire plan that doesn’t involve any of this.

If I’m here, it’s because I want to be Liz for a night and just forget that I am an “infamous, notorious writer.” As I always say, I’m just a traumatized woman in recovery who has no idea how to have fun, standing before a crowd of strangers on the other side of the world, asking them to teach me how to have fun.

There is no fun in my world. Only work, which for me sadly means being a prisoner of my own device all the time. I literally have no idea how else to live my life. It is what it is.

It’s too bad I’m not on someone’s trivia team right now. I am killing it with these categories. My new mantra: “You don’t have to love me. You don’t even have to like me. But you will respect my intelligence enough to include me on your team for Quiz Night. And that’s why we will all win whatever this prize is together. Hashtag: Teamwork Makes The Dream Work.”

Lately I’ve been really caught up in reliving past moments when my goals were actively being sabotaged by my mother. Right now I am trying to be present and look at what I’ve been able to accomplish in spite of that.

I’m not comparing myself to any of these influencer types I was jealous of before. I definitely still have goals I haven’t accomplished yet, but even the fact that I got this far is still an impressive feet.

I mean…. Hong Kong. Wow. That’s big no matter how you slice it. I am truly lucky to be here right now. I know it’s complicated and all that, but I love it, and I’m learning a lot, and I don’t regret coming here for even one minute.

Anyway, that’s all I have to say tonight. I’m just sitting here pretending to look busy so it doesn’t look like I showed up for a social event that didn’t actually happen like some total fucking loser, lol.

It is what it is…

BLOG: Chum for the Sharks

Friday.

Currently sitting inside the coffee shop, which I almost never do. Overstimulation Central. Bright lights, loud music, people talking. Not the vibe I’m looking for today.

Usually I prefer to sit outside and watch the street. Unfortunately, the Dump Truck came to China and brought a cloud of terrible weather with him. It’s been raining cats and dogs down here in Hong Kong since he showed up.

Coincidence? I think not.

The rainy weather always takes my energy out of me. I have spent most of the last 48 hours in bed as a direct result. Most of my time was spent sleeping and watching a Japanese TV series on Netflix called “Straight to Hell” about a famous fortune teller and her climb to the top. I love her, I hate her, I kind of want to be her, but I also don’t agree with half of the shit she does. It is what it is.

I went out on Wednesday night, much to my regret. I did not find any interesting stories, so I came home early. In my drunken mind, I decided it was a good idea to knock on my neighbor’s door and offer him a can of body spray called “Beach.” You know, because he looks like a Ken Doll and Ken’s job is Beach. Right. Logical to me, not so logical to him. It was my way of trying to thank him for all the help he’s given me over the last few months.

It did not go well. He opened the door and was so rude to me that I was genuinely shocked by his behavior. Talk about two-faced! Wow! He basically told me to fuck off and slammed the door in my face. Again, shocking. That was not the same person I’ve been speaking to on the rooftop. Crazy.

At first I took it personally, but then I remembered he’s an Actor. He has a “Process.” What I did was basically the equivalent of knocking on the door to his trailer while he’s in the middle of his “Process.” He’s probably busy “looksmaxxing” (or whatever it is the kids say these days). He has a very strict routine he has to do to get into his roles, you know? If he doesn’t follow it, he can’t do his job. It is what it is.

Still not an excuse to be a total dick to me for no reason whatsoever, though.

Anyway, I felt my attraction to him vanish pretty much immediately after that. There goes my Slow Burn! Dammit! I was really looking forward to being cornered in the stairwell and “absolutely wrecked.” Alas!

He told me who he was, and I believe him. He does not play the romantic leads in Western movies. He plays the bad guys in Chinese movies. It is what it is.

That’s okay with me! I need a good villain! He can team up with my other British Guy from Bangkok. Birds of a villainous feather flock together! I can already envision this in my head.

So that happened, and now we’ve learned why we don’t fuck our colonizers! Okay! No more British Lads, regardless where in the former Empire they were raised. Same shit, different colony. It is what it is.

Learning new things every day.

Gotta love it.

Okay, enough about my many men. I have real issues to deal with, like visas and moving and paid jobs that are not materializing even though I desperately need one. I don’t know how anyone in charge actually expects anyone to make it in this day and age. It’s especially frustrating watching a show like “Straight to Hell,” which is another version of the “Baby Boomer Climbs to The Top of the Ladder” myth. Yes, they climbed to the top, then they pulled it up behind them. Shitty.

I do love her whole attitude about wanting to start her own business so she is no longer beholden to anyone. Nice idea, right? Oh, except for the part where she gets conned out of all of her money and property by some hottie with a body, gets taken as a slave by his big old non-yakuza gangster boss, then ends up dating an actual yakuza boss to free herself from slavery.

Lol, just a little flaw in the plan right there…

Sadly, I have no talent for business, at least that I know of. If I had any sense of it, I would already have one. Instead I’m just running around SEA, collecting men like Pokémon cards in some sort of effort to become a writer.

The only explanation I have for my behavior right now is “Arrested Development.” This is exactly what I would have been doing had my parents allowed me to move to Los Angeles like I wanted to when I was 27 years old. But no. That wasn’t allowed, so I had to stay in a small town in the middle of nowhere in bumfuck South Dakota, where there were zero opportunities, and do nothing and date no one.

I seriously have no idea what my parents were thinking. Honestly, I don’t think they were. My dad was in active opioid addiction and my mother was on some combination of alcohol/allergy medication/god knows what else. All they ever did was yell and scream and fight with each other. If I asked for anything or needed anything, I got screamed at too.

This is how I ended up living in downtown Verm, writing about Bloody Mary’s Bar, being put through a mass hazing and harassment campaign by some psycho bar owner and his little cult of followers dedicated to protecting rapists, abusers, predators, and pedos from evil feminist bitches like me. Good job, guys! You really SHOWED me I was wrong!

What a joke, lol.

Anyway, I am here now, as I continue to remind myself. I’m putting a lot of pressure on myself to be functional and normal instead of just embracing the freedom and running around the world like I could be.

Just kidding, I can’t do that. Nope. I have a paperwork issue of urgent need. My mother heard this and was THRILLED that she finally had another chance to sabotage me! This is what she does. I have like 25 years of documentation of her doing shit like this. If it involves me needing paperwork of some sort in order to secure my freedom, she will find a way to sabotage it. Why is she like this? I don’t know. But I do know I can’t fix it or change it, so hopefully after this round, I will finally be free of her bullshit and able to act fully on my own.

This is the only thing motivating me right now: I need a job so I can finally be independent from her. I am 37 years old. I should not be fighting with this woman over my friggin’ birth certificate. I shouldn’t have to worry about her stealing my mail or doing my taxes without permission. I shouldn’t have to call her asking if I can get a new phone. None of this is normal. Why does she think it’s normal?

Furthermore, why are so many people siding with and enabling this woman’s abusive behavior? It’s insane the way she manipulates people. You are not the victim of your evil, selfish daughter, Karen. You’re an abuser. You’ve been abusing me my whole life. That’s literally why I moved to the other side of the planet. I wanted to get the fuck away from you.

She plays this game where she’ll be screaming at me, “You’re an ADULT! You have CHOICES!” But then she directly interferes with my paperwork and sabotages me and actively prevents me from being an actual adult. Then she gets everyone to pile onto me about “not acting like an adult.” Literally, all you had to do was give me a pile of paperwork 15 years ago and none of this would have ever happened. But no, you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to put on a show and play a game and ruin my life so you could get attention.

Ugh. No wonder I can’t think straight sometimes. How can I find stability when I’m still being controlled by people who do not have my best interests at heart? I’m so exhausted right now. I don’t know how to get out.

I’m angry at myself that the job I took in Hong Kong didn’t work out. I am here a year later looking at my plan from last year and I’m just mad. I didn’t accomplish what I set out to accomplish, which was becoming fully financially independent from my abusive family. Why? Because I jumped from one abusive situation into another, which was the atmosphere of this company I worked for. I was just chum for the sharks, as they say here in Hong Kong. I was so desperate to escape my old situation that I dived right into a shark tank without looking. Luckily, I made it out alive, but still…

I’m still in the same position I was before, only now I’m running out of time and money. I still haven’t made any progress on the job thing. I just can’t stand the idea of being used and exploited like that again. I’m so over it.

All I know is that I never want to be beholden to anyone else ever again. I wanted to be free of my family forever. I don’t want anymore ties to them. I wanted to be in control of my own destiny for once in my life.

Unfortunately, it feels like the only thing I know how to do is put my words to paper. I can’t offer the world anything else beyond that. I thought there was something to this teaching English and/or Yoga thing, but there isn’t. It’s just more exploitation in return for table scraps. I’m over it.

I’m so lost right now. I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. I just want money, a room of my own, and the freedom to write forever. How do I acquire that? I don’t know. By manifestation and the law of attraction and magic, I guess?

If I were smart and had no morals, I would just start my own yoga cult. That’s where all the money is! Unfortunately for me, I don’t think like that. I don’t look at vulnerable people struggling with mental illness and think, “How can I exploit them for ca$$$h money, baby?” I will never be like that. I’m proud not to be like that.

Well, that’s how I end up getting conned into giving out free sex work services by handsome Russian men, isn’t it? I am too innocent and too pure of heart. I’m swimming in shark-infested waters right now and I don’t even know what kind of sea creature I am. How can I thrive if I don’t know who I am? Am I shark? An octopus? A starfish? A dolphin? A turtle? A seal? I don’t know.

Maybe I should go see a fortune teller…

Yes, that’s it. I’ll go and see a fortune teller. Surely that will fix everything!

Off to go home and finish that TV show now.

BLOG: You Want To Go To A Real Party?

Wednesday.

Strange days, strange nights. My new favourite song lyric is “You’ll get more than you bargained for when you come to Hong Kong.” Ain’t that the truth?

Let me start with Monday night. Late at night, I received a text message from my bartender friend’s mother asking me if I knew where she was. As I had just finished that “Should I Marry A Murderer?” Documentary on Netflix, I immediately panicked. When I didn’t hear from my friend for an hour, I started to spiral. By the next morning, I was fully convinced she had been trafficked or murdered.

I texted her mother asking if she ever showed up. She confirmed that my friend was alive and okay, but the situation she described was unclear. I went to the bar where my friend works in search of her. She was not there, but her Auntie was. I showed her the message and she said, “Oh yeah, last night was crazy. It was a whole thing. I am actually about to go see her right now. Do you want to come?”

Obviously, yes, because I still hadn’t heard from my friend herself, so I was worried. We left the bar and took a cab to Causeway Bay to meet up with my friend at this rooftop bar where she was with her boyfriend. I was so relieved to see her. She explained what happened. She was out drinking and broke her phone, so nobody can currently get ahold of her. Okay, not so bad.

My friend and her Auntie both seemed half-surprised at my concern, but at the same time, they were not really that surprised at all. I have become close with them since I came back to Hong Kong. They share stories with me, I share stories with them, we laugh, we cry, we smoke, we drink. Last night we went out for a girls night and had the best time. We are all real friends now.

It still wigs me out to see how people look at me when I hang out with them. The racism and classism here is so real. There is definitely a sense of “Why is this Western white woman hanging out with Filipina women? Doesn’t she know they’re ‘The Help’? Why are you hanging out with ‘The Help.’”

Probably because I don’t want to spend time around rich white people with active cocaine addictions who classify brown people as “beneath them?” Hmm… just a theory!

Definitely a fish out of water over here. Ugh. I was explaining to them that I’ve grown to resent this concept of “networking” because nine times out of ten, it’s just rich white people doing Coke and Special K together. It’s so depressing to realize the entire financial system on this planet is run by people with active drug addictions, but it is what it is, I guess.

Not exactly a mystery why I, a person who spent 20 years working in the service industry, would want to hang out with other people who work in the service industry. They’re relatable. They have the same perspective as I do. We stand behind the bar and judge the fuck out of the crazy people snorting coke off of dirty bar toilets who somehow think they are “above us.”

Also, I’ve never had a corporate office job and I’ve been trapped out living in the middle of fucking nowhere for 17 years. Now I’m 37 years old and I’m having my first exposure to the “white collar” world. It’s like…. Ugh. Gross.

Most of these people are so out-of-touch with reality. They have no idea we are watching them like they’re characters on a TV show. They just think the people who are bringing them drinks are empty-headed slaves put on earth to serve them because of their presumed “superiority.” It’s ridiculous.

Anyway, we had a good time on the rooftop last night. Plus, we got a discount because my friend had worked there before and everyone on the staff knew her. Perks! I even said to Auntie, “This is your Jack Dawson moment. Like we just surveyed this room of corporate jerks and you looked over at me and said, ‘Do you want to go to a real party now?’”

Yes, yes I do. Take me to the lower decks and we’ll crack open the whiskey and dance until this ship sinks to the bottom of the SEA.

So that’s what we did.

We also wanted to test out the theory that some people and places are safer than others. They have serious concerns about me after hearing my stories about The Sketchy Place and The Wolf. In fact, my friend asked me I remember seeing her on Saturday night after leaving The Sketchy Place. I do not. I barely remember anything about Saturday night, to be honest.

She said I was absolutely fucking shitfaced and she had never seen me in a state like that. She said everyone was concerned because they have all seen me drinking in their bar and they’ve never seen me act like that. I said this is the third instance of a blackout happening at The Sketchy Place. They are very against me going back. I can’t help but agree with them, considering the only two things I remember about being there are watching a drug dealer do business with everyone there and then not having to pay for our tab.

We decided to test out the “How much alcohol can Betsey actually put down before blacking out?” Theory. I was with them all night drinking mojitos, eating snacks, smoking menthols, and laughing hysterically. By the end of it, I was barely tipsy and in a very good mood. This proved to us that yes, The Sketchy Place is, in fact, unsafe, and that I should never go back there ever again.

Mission Accomplished.

Fast forward to this morning. I was not hungover. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. More proof something weird is going on at some of these places. They are convinced I’m being targeted because I’m a writer. They are probably right. It’s not the Triads I’m afraid of here. It’s the Finance Bros and their active drug addictions that make them power-hungry, paranoid, and totally unstable.

I came to the coffee shop, as I always do. However, instead of writing, I launched into a conversion with another writer I met here who is from India. We have a lot in common. He gave me some really good advice and invited me to join a local writer’s group.

I couldn’t help but smile at the fact that I had a vision of Lord Ganesha on a beach in India yesterday, and now there is an Indian man sitting in front of me imparting extremely valuable writing advice. That’s not a coincidence! That’s just Hinduism working its magic.

There are some truly strange things that happen in this world sometimes. Strange, unexplainable things. I believe in all of them. I truly do believe in magic. I believe in it more and more as this year has unfolded. There is no such thing as a coincidence. We always end up exactly where we are supposed to be.

On that note, I am off now. To do what, we don’t know. I’ll let the universe take the lead today. I trust in the process…

BLOG: Gonna Have A Good Day

Tuesday afternoon.

I am having a good day so far. Looking good, feeling fly. Ain’t nobody dope as me, I’m just so fresh, so clean (so fresh and so clean, clean)!

Did yoga on the rooftop, then showered and got all dolled up for no other reason than just because I can. I set my intention for today to just feel good and be happy and have a nice day.

Luckily for me, my neighbor decided against sneaking up on me during my yoga session. I sensed he was out there at some point because that’s a real thing you can do when you’re real deep into your mind. My guess is that he caught me when I was deep in meditation and realized it’s actually not cool to disrupt someone when they’re in the middle of their yoga practice.

I still got startled by a pigeon afterword, thinking it was him. I’m super paranoid he is going to jump out at me now at any moment and scare the absolute crap out of me. It’s so funny to me how easily I startle. It’s definitely a trauma response, lol. I appreciate the fact that my neighbor and I have made a little inside joke out of it. As I have learned, anything on the Trauma Spectrum is best dealt with humor.

I had a very nice vision while I was meditating today. Much to my surprise, I received a visit from Lord Ganesha himself, which was very unexpected and pleasantly surprising.

In case you need a reminder, Lord Ganesha is the Hindu Elephant God who, amongst many other things, invented writing and the alphabet. He is the god I chose to devote myself to when I was at the Yoga Shala in India. He hasn’t let me down so far!

He was holding pens in all four of his hands with different names on them representing all the different places I’ve been. He handed me the pens and said, “You are doing well, Betsey. I am very pleased with your progress on your story so far. You will be a great writer someday.”

He grew two more arms and held up two choices in his hands. In one hand was a fireball representing anger and in the other hand was a bag of ca$$$h money, baby!

He said, “You must let go of your anger now. It’s holding you back. You must choose. You can stay angry, or you can make money. What do you want?”

Obviously I chose the money because duh, who wouldn’t? He handed me the bag and disappeared. I found myself walking down Agonda Beach back in India all alone, as I usually do when I’m meditating.

The Russian appeared and looked at me really sadly. He stopped me and took me in his arms and started dancing with me.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I forgive you,” I answered.

I kissed him goodbye and let him go. Then I got on my horse and rode off alone into the sunset, just as any good American cowgirl would do. The last thing I saw in my vision was myself dressed in white, dancing all alone, looking happy and free.

I came back to reality and felt the sun shining down on me, warming me, soothing me, recharging my battery, bringing me back to life. I said my final prayer, then got up to wash my mat. I felt so good in that moment. I’m still feeling pretty good. I feel extra sparkly today.

After I finished washing my mat, I went back down to my apartment to transform myself from Sweaty Betty mode to Princess mode. I put on my “Self-Esteem Booster” playlist and sang along to it while I showered and got dressed.

It wasn’t until I was packing up to leave that I realized my neighbor could probably hear my fabulously musical rendition of “P.I.M.P.” By 50 Cent. I imagined him sitting on the other side of the wall, looking confused and thinking, “What in the fuck? WHO is this woman?!”

Hilarious, truly, lol.

I guess I just wanted to warn him. I don’t know what ya heard about me, but a bitch can’t get a dollar outta me, lolololol!

Too funny.

Hmm, what should I do today? I don’t know. I just wanted to do something simple and easy that will make me happy, like ride the ding-ding from one end of the island to the other. The weather is perfect for it. Honestly it’s so fun. I don’t care how lame and touristy it is.

Next stop: Kennedy Town!

Oooh, I should stop by HKU campus even though it’s completely unaffordable for me! I just want to see the campus. It’s very historic.

The barista says I should go to the beach. Could be an option. I’m not really in sand mode since I just did yoga and showered. I’m wearing a really pretty dress and I’ve already done my hair and makeup. I’m like, more in… “find a nice cafe overlooking the fragrant harbor and eat lunch there” mode. You know me. My idea of being outdoorsy is sitting on a patio. I already did my workout today. I have zero desire to go on a hike.

LOL these two guys are standing outside the coffee shop talking about how attractive I am in French. They have no idea I can understand everything they are saying. Classic comedy material right here.

Hmmm… what else can I say about today? Well, last night I watched the Netflix documentary “Should I Marry A Murderer?” Girl, damn. It’s scary how easily that could be me. Watching her mental breakdown in real time was pretty distressing.

I do respect and admire the fact that she put in the work of getting the confession and the location of the body. The way the police treated her was really shitty. They didn’t help her at all.

The comments online are even worse. It’s so depressing how many people in the world completely lack empathy. They’re lucky in a way because they have clearly never been in a situation where they themselves or someone they know has seriously struggled with mental health and addition issues. Still… just… sad to read. People are so fucking shitty. They just don’t get it.

She ends it by saying “When you love yourself, you attract healthy love.” This was my inspiration to love myself today. Yes, I will love myself enough not to end up in bed with another sociopath, lololol. We can only hope…

Off now.

All aboard the ding-ding!

Ding ding, ding ding, ding ding…

BLOG: The Weekend Update

Monday.

It was quite the weekend, wasn’t it? You know shit’s going down when I don’t post for two days in a row. So much to document. This is why I have to write daily or I will forget.

Friday night was… the most interesting. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be since the vast majority was pretty lame. I watched Remarkably Bright Creatures, which made me cry my eyes out. I think I may have watched something else before that which also made me cry, but I can’t fully remember. Whatever it was also made me cry. I actually spent most of my night crying. That’s what I remember about it, lol.

It’s not a good weekend for me. It was my dead dad’s birthday and Mother’s Day. Not so fun for me. So I just planned to stay in and cry about it because I didn’t want to put that energy onto anyone else by going out in public.

Sometime around 3am, I decided to go up to the rooftop for a smoke. As I was coming back to the stairway, I heard someone coming up the stairs. I looked down to confirm it was my hot beefcake neighbor. I noticed he was staring at his phone and had his earbuds in. I decided to use the opportunity to scare him since that’s our little inside joke now. We are always startling each other unexpectedly, though I suspect he’s done it on purpose now at least once or twice. The last time was definitely intentional.

I decided to take revenge. I hid behind the door so he couldn’t see me. When he reached the top, I jumped out at him and yelled “Boo!” I got the full movie jump scare out of him. He genuinely looked terrified! I was laughing so hard! It was so funny! Just what I needed after a long night of crying…

It took him a minute or two to recover. Once he had regained his composure, he gave me a look I can only describe as “smoldering” and said, “Ohhh, you’re in trouble now. I’m gonna get you back. I am going to wreck you. Just absolutely wreck you. One of these days, I’m gonna come out here when you’re doing yoga and sneak up on you and absolutely ruin you.”

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Ummm… okay. Why does that sound less like a threat and more like a sexual innuendo? Is this one of these British English vs American English kind of situations? What’s going on here? What’s he actually saying? Am I supposed to be turned on right now? Because I’m actually kind of turned on right now.

As I was relaying this part of the story to my friend later, she raised her eyebrow and smirked at me.

“I think your neighbor has a thing for you,” she said.

“Maybe. I don’t know. Does saying ‘I’m going to wreck you’ mean something different in British? Because in America, that’s a very strong, very sexually-charged statement to make.”

My friend just laughed at me.

“Yeah, it means the same thing in British.”

“So he’s saying he wants to bang me?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Hmm. Interesting.”

Back to the rooftop. We ended up sitting out there chatting for like an hour and a half. He said to me, “You know, you are the strangest person I have ever met. I can’t figure you out at all. You’re such a little weirdo. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Well, you know us Americans. We’re all very strange and exotic to properly uptight British lads like yourself. It’s A Thing. They’re all into Asian girls until the moment they meet an American, and then it’s like, “Ooooooh, an American. I’m obsessed with Americans and America. I love America! I want to be American! If I put my penis inside of you, will I absorb your magical powers of Freedom, Liberty, and Justice for All?”

My British Guy in Bangkok was like this as well. He was utterly obsessed with my Americanness. Then he ran off with some Thai girl to an island and was never seen or heard from again. I don’t think he knows what he wants, tbh.

Anyway, so, back to my neighbor. He started asking me all these questions about South Dakota. This is also A Thing I’ve noticed with people who have fascinations with Americans. They hear me say “South Dakota” and they think Ye Olde Western Frontier. Cowboy boots. Gunslingers. Old-timey dive bars with a piano player and bathtub bourbon. Aces and Eights! The whole thing!

Truly, not that far off from reality, if you want my professional opinion.

So obviously the last thing I want to talk about to anyone ever is motherfucking South Dakota. Unfortunately, it turns out there is a whole untapped international market that is obsessed with it and wants to know everything there is to know about it. It is what it is. I could be angry, or I could exploit my 17 years of experience and knowledge for ca$$$h money, baby! What do you think I’ll end up choosing in the end?

As I mentioned previously, my neighbor is an Actor. He says he usually plays bad guys in Chinese movies. I told him he could also play bad guys in Bollywood movies since he’s British. He said, “No, I want to play a gunslinger in a movie about the American West.” Okay, okay, I can see it, I can see it. Let’s just sit here on the rooftop and work through this concept together until we have a decent script.

The story we ultimately worked out is basically just the male version of The Holiday. I have a friend back in SD who has the same name as my neighbor. We’ll use a fake name here to protect their identities: Dave. So this movie is temporarily titled “Dave vs. Dave.” Still working that one out.

In this movie, Hong Kong Dave and South Dakota Dave are both bored with their lives and looking for a change. They meet on an Internet forum and decide to trade lives. HK Dave goes to South Dakota, where he lives in SD Dave’s tiny house, drives his big pick-up truck, works at a dive bar on the edge of town, wears cowboy boots every day, and carries a gun around on his hip for absolutely no reason other than the fact that it looks cool.

Meanwhile, SD Dave goes to Hong Kong, where he lives in HK Dave’s tiny shoebox apartment and works as an actor. We get to see him scaling the bamboo scaffolding and doing kung fu and going on crazy car chases across the bridge to Kowloon and fighting off the Triads.

I sent this pitch to SD Dave and he absolutely LOVED it. He was like, “Can we make this actually happen?” IDK, maybe. I suppose anything is possible, right?

Right.

Sometime around 4:30am, we decided to call it a night. I was slightly disappointed that he did not make a move, but again, I suspect he has a girlfriend even though he says, “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a girl I see sometimes.” Sooooo basically… she’s your girlfriend, lol.

Men. Lol.

So that was Friday.

On Saturday, I went out with my girl friend, whose identity I prefer to protect by not “making her into a character.” We have talked about this. I told her that I mention in my blog that we frequently go out to different places together, but she’s not a “character” and I don’t write about her life. She’s cool with it.

So we went out for lunch, then we went up to The Sketchy Place. It was actually her suggestion. I had my doubts, but I mulled it over during lunch and decided it was a good idea to check in again after a month to see what’s up. As we were walking up, both of us had some doubts, but we decided to go through with it in the end.

Several mysteries were solved on this occasion. First, I figured out how I got “lost” and “separated” from her the last time we were there. It turns out, the bathroom is in a weird location. You have to walk back through the kitchen to get to it. If you come out and turn left immediately, there is an open door to the alleyway outside that splits into two directions. If you turn right, you go back through the kitchen and out into the bar. As soon as I saw this, I realized that what had happened before was that I was really drunk and confused and somehow got “lost” in this alleyway. I get lost in the dumbest ways in HK. It’s a real thing.

The second mystery we solved was the question of whether or not this place is frequented by drug dealers. The answer is yes. I saw the same guy from The Wolf who had given the coke to the Finance Bro I was with at the time. I observed him for some time. He kept going in and out, making phone calls, and “shaking hands” with randoms on the street. It appeared to be an open secret among the regulars there. Everyone knew what he was doing and nobody cared. It’s like… yeah, duh, that’s why he’s here.

The group of people he was with were the same sketchy crew of long-term expats as before. Once I sat in observation of their dynamic without involving myself, I understood exactly what was going on.

Somehow, our tab was mysteriously “taken care of,” even though we did not actually socialize much with anyone else that night. I don’t know who paid it. Was it the MAusGA guy? Was it my Irish friend? Was it someone else? We have no idea. All we know is that we didn’t have to pay for jack shit.

Hmm… I see your bribe for what it is and willingly accept it. I will no longer be reporting on The Sketchy Place. Really, what else is there to say? Everyone knows the daily consumption of Coke & Special K are an open secret in the Finance World. It is what it is. What else is there to say?

So at this point, I was pretty wasted. I know better than to daydrink with wine, but I was daydrinking wine. Questionable choices were made! All I can say is: Nothing good ever happens at the 7/11 by Peel Street. It is what it is!!!!

I made a deal not to write about what happened with the other person involved. We agreed it was a mistake and to just hit reset and move on. I am open to making deals with people not to use them as characters in my writing. You just have to approach it the right way. You’ll get much further by being respectful than you will by going on the attack. Going into Attack Mode against me will make it 1000x more likely that I’ll write about you. I reserve the right to defend myself at all times. My way of defending myself is with a Pen, not a Sword. It is what it is.

This is part of the reason why I ignored the Russian when he said he didn’t want to me to write about him. Okay, well, maybe you should have thought about that more before you used me for cheap work trip sex, tossed me aside like I was nothing, and then blocked me as soon as you got off the plane in Switzerland.

All of that says, “I have no respect for you as a human being.” So why would I have any respect for you in return? Fuck you, bro. I’ll write a story about you fighting a bear with your shirt off if I want to. What are you going to do? Cancel me for being a big, strong, alpha female?

*blows raspberry in his general direction*

Anyway, I was soooo hungover yesterday. It was not a good thing. I can’t live my life this way anymore. I am getting too old for this. My body absolutely fucking hates me right now. I need to do a cleanse. I need to do yoga. I need to drink some water and eat some fruit. Just… ugh.

I still have not made a decision about Cambodia. I need to do that like, today. I can’t just ghost this person. It’s been almost a week. I need to send them a response.

It’s hard. I love Hong Kong. I really want to make it work. I can see myself living here long-term. But I also feel like… this work trade in Cambodia is a rare opportunity and I should take it just for the experience. Cambodia is so beautiful. It has such a tragic backstory. It’s complicated. I want the chance to explore it. Isn’t that the point of coming to SEA? I gotta See the SEA! That’s why I’m here!

Plus, it might be good for me to go teach yoga and be out of the city and just do a little reset/detox to figure out my next steps. This year has been stressful and confusing. I’m so grateful to have left SD behind, but it’s been a lot.

I don’t know. I have to decide. I’m gonna do yoga on my rooftop and figure it out from there. I’ll just make sure my neighbor isn’t home first so he can’t sneak up on me and scare me, lol!

I told him this morning that he missed out on his revenge. I was walking down the stairs in my building and a GIGANTIC cockroach fell from the sky and bounced off my shoulder. I SCREAMED so loud that the entire building heard me.

I messaged him to tell him this story and he said, “Ah yes, I heard your shriek. I suspected that’s what happened. This is why I told you not to use the stairs.”

I was just trying to get my steps in, bro. Jesus. I hate cockroaches. They’re so gross. So gross! EWWWWW!!!!!

Phew! What a long post! What a weekend! What a life!

I really do love it. Even on the days when I’m sad and struggling and lost and confused. I love my life. I love Hong Kong. I love SEA. I feel so incredibly lucky to be here. I am grateful every single day. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world, for better or for worse. I never, ever thought I would live in Hong Kong (or Bangkok, for that matter). I wouldn’t trade this adventure for anything in the world.

Off now. I need to tidy up my studio and run errands and do all the boring stuff now. Not every day can be an adventure. Most days are very routine and boring. But still… I can’t help but find myself falling more in love with Hong Kong every day…

Have a good day!

BLOG: Cinco de Drinko

Wednesday.

Went out with my friend last night for dinner in honor of Cinco de Mayo. We went to a place in Central that was running a “Free Flow” deal on tacos, margs, and Coronas. That means “All You Can Eat and Drink in 90 minutes.” Challenge Accepted.

I ate six tacos (one of every flavor they had) and drank approximately one million margs. Somehow, it did not affect me, probably because I am quite accustomed to partying Latinx style. Back in my NOVA days, we used to play beer pong with solo cups full of Corona and shots of Patron while bumping to reggaeton.

Ahhh, those were the good old days…

My friend, on the other hand, is a serious corporate professional who is not quite as accustomed to putting on a sombrero and throwing back tequila shots like there’s no tomorrow while screaming, “DAME MÁS GASOLINA!” She went out last night looking like Bad Bunny at the Super Bowl and woke up this morning looking like Bad Bunny at the Met Gala. She has now aged 9000 years on the Mayan calendar. She may never physically recover from this.

Oh, we had a grand ole time, though. I’m sure everyone at the restaurant really enjoyed my drunken rendition of “Oye Mi Canto” by Nina Sky that I mastered on my Costa Rica trip back in 2006. That song is such a banger. Their whole playlist was *FIRE!* I couldn’t have chosen better myself.

Anyway, it was fun, and somehow I am magically not hungover. I can’t explain that! Like I said, I guess I just have a lot of experience. I guess you could say I’m a professional.

Yeah, that Russian Guy is really missing out right now. I am The Most Fun. He can suffer all alone in his sad little apartment on his ugly leather couch. He wishes he could watch me put on a sombrero and drunkenly dance around the room to Pitbull. In his dreams! He would be like, “This is too woke for me!” and then go back to all his boring piles of paperwork, or whatever it is he does all day that affords him the opportunity to waste a perfectly good stay at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Hong Kong.

Anyway, forget him. I have to decide if I want to take this Yoga Work Trade opportunity I was offered in Cambodia. I’ve been doing a lot of research. The visa is pretty easy to get and extend. The town itself is very expat-friendly and a surprisingly big yogi haven. There are other opportunities to teach both yoga and English, as well as the option to take the CELTA course in-person for cheap to level up my teaching skillset and boost my CV.

It seems like a good temporary situation to get some more experience under my belt. Then maybe my job hunt will be easier because I have something recent to put on my resume. Plus, it’s Cambodia, and I really, really, really want to go to Cambodia. It’s definitely a challenging situation there, but that’s why I want to go. I’ve studied the history and I want to go.

I can always come back to Hong Kong. As they say, once you’re in, you’re in. And I am definitely in…

It’s hard. I’m caught between my desire for stability and my desire to collect new experiences. I think right now it’s probably better to use the opportunity I have to collect more experiences. I can be stable when I’m 40. Let’s spend the last few years of my 30’s checking off items on my bucket list instead! It’s not like I’m going to get married or have children. I can’t be tamed. No man can tie me down, nor do they want to. They all flee the scene in fear of me once the night is through. It is what it is.

Hmmm… what should I do today while I mull over my decision? Perhaps finish cleaning my apartment since I “took a break” yesterday that led to me sitting in bed watching Netflix for several hours and never finished? Go to an actual yoga class instead of lying in bed doing meditation? Run errands? Watch more Netflix?

Who knows? Let’s find out.

BLOG: The Cure for Loneliness

Sunday afternoon. Chillin’ in my apartment on a rainy day. There is something very cozy about rainy days in Hong Kong. The thunder is rolling in, the lightning is flashing, the rain is pounding against the pavement, the streets are slowly filling up with water and flooding. It’s the perfect day to stay inside and cozy up with a cup of tea and Netflix.

I feel much better after this weekend. I was very depressed last week. However, I went out and socialized. Hung out with my neighbor on the rooftop on Friday, went out for dinner with my girl friend last night, had brunch with my Irish friend today. Chatted with my best friend on Instagram. It turns out the cure for loneliness is, in fact, friendship!

My friend and I went to a Lebanese restaurant last night for dinner. The food was delicious! I love Lebanese. My friend is a great person to go out to eat with because she has strong opinions about the subject of food. As a foodie, I personally feel this is the best kind of friend to have.

I asked her if she wanted to go to this French place I’ve been dying to try. She said, “No, I want Lebanese.” I sent her suggestions for four different restaurants. She sent me a voice note back with strong opinions about all of them. The one she chose was really good. I officially trust her judgement on this matter.

We went to the French place afterward for dessert and drinks. They have the most fabulous patio! The design of the whole place was soooooooo Parisian! It was straight outta France! The best part was that all of the waiters were extremely good-looking men. All of them. They were wearing the little suits and everything. It was incredible. I was really hoping they would all form a kickline and break out into a Beauty and the Beast style musical number.

After they closed, we walked down to the 7-11 on Peel Street to pick up some cigs and sat outside watching the crowd. At that point, it was about 1am, so everyone was pretty messy. The crowd was mostly skewing very young. Big “spring semester internship abroad” energy, if you know what I’m saying. More fun to watch from afar than be part of. I was watching a live feed of the crowd on Peel Street last weekend and thinking I was missing out on a vital Hong Kong experience. Now I know it’s just the Hong Kong version of Char Thirty, lol.

This morning, I went out to brunch with my Irish friend. He’s pretty chill. I don’t know how to explain the vibe there. It’s very… familiar. It’s like hanging around with a cousin. I am learning a lot from him. Brunch vibes. It’s definitely the same feeling that I felt when I was with my Irish Family in Bangkok. Friends come in all forms. That’s one of the lessons I’m learning here in SEA.

He asked me how I was feeling about The Russian. I said it was still bothering me a lot. He said, “You must have really liked him.” No, I did not, actually. Somehow I remain frustrated about the entire situation. I think maybe what both of us really wanted was an actual emotional connection and it just wasn’t possible in that specific situation, so it’s just upsetting me and annoying me that I did that when I should have just held out for something deeper and more meaningful. It’s less about the man himself and more about my frustration with the entire situation.

We changed the subject after that. He was telling me about the trip he took to Hanoi, Vietnam. He stayed in this old French colonial palace. Sooo jealous. I want to go to Vietnam so bad. Everyone just raves about it! But I have to wait. I need to get my career shit together. No more running off on adventures until I get my job/career/income situation together. Once I have income and stability, I can run off to Vietnam or Cambodia later.

As I am constantly reminding myself every day, I did not just come to Hong Kong on a whim. My life dream has always been to live in a big international city and have a successful career and live in a fabulous apartment. I am here now. I can succeed at this if I just give it the old college try. I can do this. I have friends who are supporting me on my journey. I can ask for help whenever I need it. It’s going to be okay.

I can do this.

I think it’s really easy for me to fall down into a pit of despair and spiral into anxiety mode. I’m grateful that I had so many friends around me this weekend to raise me back up and knock some sense back into my head. I think the biggest lesson I’m learning as an Expat is that we are never really alone. We all have to be there for each other and support each other. I’m not the only one who experiences these feelings of sadness and loneliness or being lost and faraway from home. There’s a whole community. I can’t be afraid to put myself out there and be part of it just because I’ve had a few weird interactions. There will always be some who to help you out when you need it.

After this weekend, I felt a sense of renewed hope. I’ve just been feeling so down. Now it’s like… okay, I can do this. They call it the Hong Kong Hustle for a reason. Get up off your ass and work!

Going to make a cup of tea and re-watch Eat Pray Love for the billionth time now. The main character is really annoying, but I’ve noticed over several re-watches that she’s sort of written in a way that makes it easy to project yourself onto the character and imagine your own journey unfolding across Italy, India, and Bali instead.

I remember I used to watch it and just dream and dream and dream of traveling. I could have never, ever have conceived of myself going to India or Bali, but now I’ve been to both. Now I live in fricking Hong Kong! And before that, I was living in Thailand! Amazing! I am doing The Thing. I am doing The Eat Pray Love Thing. Go me!

Maybe not every day is a good day, but all that matters is that I did it. I’ve done it. I’m out here doing it. I am Living the Dream. Now let’s keep the dream alive and find ourselves an income!

We’ll worry about that tomorrow. For now, it’s time to curl up in my blanket with a tea and enjoy reflecting upon my journey.

Happy Sunday!

BLOG: See the SEA

Thursday. Where does the time go? I do not know.

I am early to the coffee shop today. Early meaning 10:15am. Normally I come around lunchtime because the streets are busier and much more fun to watch. Today I came early just because I woke up at sunrise, a rarity for me here in Hong Kong.

I am doing a little bit better today. I went out for pizza on the patio last night, which I have not done in over a month. I’ve been going out to different places and trying new things in an effort to cease my reliance on my Western comforts. That being said, one can only eat rice and noodles for so long before they need a slice of pizza with hot sauce and a cup of ranch on the side.

In the case of Thailand, this particular craving manifests as a grilled cheese sandwich with a side of coleslaw and ketchup. I would never, ever eat such a thing in the US. But in Bangkok? Hell yes, give me that shit, I haven’t seen a single tomato in weeks.

I also did a really intense 3-hour Tibetan Buddhist meditation session last night. The drilling on the street was going until pretty late, so I put on my headphones and some chanting and vibed. I had a vision I was doing yoga in Rishikesh. I had a notebook with me full of bucket list items that I was checking off. A nice little reminder that I am, in fact, living my life to the fullest. It’s okay to give myself some space for rest.

Overall, I feel good about my decision to stay in SEA, for now. There is so much more to see and do! Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Taiwan, Singapore, Japan, Korea, Mainland China, the Phillippeans, and, of course, everywhere in Thailand outside of Bangkok. I can go back West to study another time.

Everyone says the first year abroad is the hardest. I would agree with this. It’s been a lot of ups and downs. I’ve seen a mix of beautiful things and things no human being should ever see. It’s been an adventure I wouldn’t trade for the world. Resubscribe me for another year!

Now, if only my job applications would stop disappearing into the void. I need to find work, ASAP.

Anything to distract me from the intrusive thoughts I am having about The Russian. Ugh. Men. So annoying. I thought if I dated guys who just got on a plane and left, it would be much easier to cut the cord. However, this guy has proven it is not so easy, which sucks because I’m pretty sure he’s never coming back! So sad.

Why did I allow myself to be swept off my feet by his overwhelming charm? Probably because it had been five months since the Hot Beef Stew. I was ready to get him out of my system and fantasize about someone else! LOL! Well, I definitely got what I asked for. I am merely sitting in observation of my feelings now. I allow them to exist, but I take no action regarding them. There is no action to take. He is gone. The story is over. The End!

Anyway. Forget him. Let us focus on what is necessary and important: job hunting. Forever and always!

We need to step it up. Do the Hong Kong Hustle, as they say.

I have no idea how I live here some days. You’d think with my current energy levels, I’d be much happier rotting on a beach somewhere in Thailand or Vietnam. However, being here in Hong Kong and soaking up the professional vibes is good for me. It’s motivating. It’s inspiring. It pushes me to be something better than I am. That’s what I need right now in my life. I want to move up to the next level.

Just push me up the escalator to that next level. One more staircase, one more hill, just keep climbing and climbing and climbing until I reach the top…

BLOG: Irish at SEA

Tuesday, later in the day. Still in a daze. Somehow made it over to the Kowloon side to hit up the Irish pub. Nothing a bit o’ stew and a pint can’t fix, am I right?

No, you don’t understand. This is not alcohol. This is Guinness. It’s not the same. I can’t explain that! Either way, I know I’m not about to put down six pints of Guinness is one sitting. That’s just not physically possible for me. I might get through a second one if I’m lucky, lol. I might. It’s too heavy for me. That’s why I’m drinking it.

The bartender was very happy to see me. I haven’t been here since St. Patrick’s Day. She asked me how I’ve been. I said, “Oh, ya know, just out collecting ridiculous stories, as always.”

She smiled at me knowingly and answered in her deep Welsh accent, “Well, my dear, you only have one life. Better live it as best you can!”

I gave her a sheepish smile as I imagined myself tumbling down the stairs after getting shitfaced at the bar around the corner from my apartment. It would be funny if it wasn’t sad!

Speaking of sad, I just had to sit down and write my letter to the Galway people explaining that I can’t come up with the money I need for the summer program in time. I explained about my desire to come to Ireland and inquired about longer-term programs with more potential for financial aid I could look at instead.

Maybe we can’t make a month work, but we can make a year work!

We have not given up yet!

And if I can’t make it work, I guess I’ll just fly to Chiang Mai and go live in exile with Hermès, my weirdo black sheep cousin from the North who no one talks to. I’ll be like, “What up, cuz? How you like dem snakes?”

LMFAO! I kid, I kid.

I’m just saying… Thailand *is* still an option, and it’s not the worst option, either! I can still live my best Irish life in Bangkok if I want to. And I would actually get to attend the Emerald Ball. We’re not at the end of this rope yet!

Now that would make a funny book: living in Thailand for a full year, desperately trying to cobble together some understanding of Irish culture from a bunch of people who already got on a plane and left in search of better weather. Then actually go to Ireland and fill in all the gaps I missed. I could call it “Irish at SEA.”

I would watch the shit out of that on Netflix. I really would.

I try to choose characters and stories I would be willing to invest time in. I watch way too much TV, as we all know. That’s why I secretly love being unemployed. More time for TV and movies so I can take notes on what’s working and what’s not!

Okay, I’m actually feeling much better about all of this already. I knew coming to the Pub would fix me right up. No problem. I ask you, my fellow Irish, who among us has not taken a bit of a tumble down a hill after too many drinks? You stumble, you fall, you get right back up and climb the hill again. It is what it is.

Exactly!

That’s what I’m saying, fam!

Now you know who I am in my soul. I got a great big kick in the head and I woke up zenned out, peaceful, ready to negotiate on financial aid, making back-up plans for my back-up plans. I still believe in love. I still have a sense of humor. I still believe I can make this ridiculous delusion of becoming a professional writer work.

Fabulous!

I thought I ordered food, but it hasn’t come yet. That’s weird because it’s very empty here. Maybe I wasn’t clear enough? That happens sometimes. I guess I can always try again. Once more, with feeling! And perhaps a side of garlic toast, as well.

Or maybe they saw the look on my face and thought, “This one needs a full pint first today.”

We don’t know what this one needs today. I suspect that if my dad were here, he would say I need to order the chocolate brownie. I suspect my grandmother would say the same.

Who even knows anymore?

Yeah, I don’t think that order got through. No worries! So it didn’t work out the first time around. So what? Next time it will, and it will come with the side of garlic toast and a chocolate brownie for dessert. This is the Irish way of things. Grand! Just grand!

Okay, yeah, I really do feel much better now. Like, actually. Nothing like the comfort of Irish culture to get us through the difficulties of life! 😀

UPDATE: They said no. No Ireland for me this year! Alas! And so I remain trapped in exile with the rest of the snakes. For now…

BLOG: Craic Dat Whip

Saturday.

It’s Hong Kong Sevens weekend, which is one of the biggest rugby events in the world. I am not there because I am super lame and don’t have the right connections. Maybe I will be going out to people-watch with a friend later. We will see how it goes.

It’s okay. It’s just a lot of expats getting drunk and rowdy. I am… definitely not in the mood to deal with that energy right now. Instead, I am sitting in a random cafe somewhere in Central, stressing out over my finances and my life.

The situation is pretty stressful at the moment. Staying in Hong Kong is a huge risk. Going to Ireland is an even bigger risk. Going back to the States is not currently possible. Returning to Bangkok feels like a step backwards.

How do I make this work?

No idea. All I know is that first rule of finance is to just take the bull by the horns. Take control of the situation before it takes control of you. This much I have learned from living in Hong Kong. So here I am, taking control of the situation. I am not a victim. I am a strong, independent, financially responsible woman with options. I can find a way out of this mess.

If only The Russian had given stock tips during our pillow talk instead of lecturing me about my ovaries. My situation might look different right now. Okay, lesson learned, Betsey. Next time you bang a Finance Bro, shake them down for information before they get on a plane back to Switzerland and ghost you forever.

Fuck smarter, not harder.

Okay.

Let me try to reason my way through this.

Obviously, Ireland is the most desirable location due to family history and the massive potential to write a beautiful story about self-discovery, finding family, and falling in love. I can see this Netflix movie/show in my head. The creative potential is unmatched. I have to go to Ireland. I just have to!

However, the current financial situation there is not quite so desirable. Yes, I was accepted into a short- term program in Galway that could potentially lead to something longer-term. However, the price of tuition & fees, room & board, and general cost of living for 6 weeks alone would actually destroy me financially and leave me with nothing.

The only way I would be able to *maybe* survive it is by getting a long-term student visa, getting a loan for school, and finding a job at a random cafe/pub. Then I would still be in debt, but it would be student loan debt instead of credit card debt.

It feels like there is a better way to accomplish what I want to accomplish by going to Ireland that doesn’t require me to completely nuke my bank account.

For roughly the same amount as this summer program in Galway, I could pay off all of my current debt and float myself through a few more months in SEA while I continue my job hunt. It’s still a risk, but it’s a known entity at this point.

Ireland is very much an unknown entity. The housing crisis, the fuel crisis, the general economic situation, the visa process, everything. SEA is known in terms of cost potential, budget, cultural differences, etc.

Assuming I finally find a job here, I can apply for graduate school next year, after taking the time to do some real research and put together a quality application. The potential for finding scholarships and better financial solutions is higher if I delay school for another year.

Truthfully speaking, I am not hustling hard enough in regards to finding work. I am living my life on permanent vacation mode. It’s time to put an end to this. It cannot go on like this forever.

Either way, the job market is fucked. The world is fucked. Everything is fucked. I know that I want to go back to school. I know that. But I also know that I don’t want to completely fuck myself over financially by doing so. There is a better way.

Think smarter, not harder.

As I’ve said many times over the course of the last year, be careful who you mix your energies with. Well, now I’ve absorbed the powers of a very organized and highly controlled Finance Bro. My bad financial habits don’t stand a chance now! We are going to crack that whip and dominate this situation today!

Hahahaha.

Hahahahahahahaha!

That’s too funny.

He may not be the character we wanted to create, but he is the character we needed to create.

Oh, I’m loving this. I’ve got my GAA coach character to motivate me to get out of bed and my financial advisor character to motivate me to fix my mess of a bank account and lack of a real career. And here I thought men were so useless. Turns out it was always South Dakota that was the problem, not me.

Mad Dog was right all along. He always said that a single lady should always have a man to fix the plumbing, one to fix the roof, and one to chop the wood. Such wisdom my adopted Grandfather had…

That reminds me. I started watching the Netflix show “Sitting Bull” yesterday. It’s a two-part documentary about Sitting Bull and the history of the Lakota people. It’s been awhile since I listened to spoken Lakota. It’s strange how familiar it all sounded to me. I know the story so well, but hearing it again for the hundredth time brought me some comfort I’ve been missing.

I remembered it all. Working in the Oral History Center, researching Wounded Knee, going to The Rez, spending time with the Natives, going to ceremony, and following around Mad Dog. All of that was the highlight of my time in South Dakota. It made the entire experience worth it for me. Nothing, absolutely nothing in this world can EVER come close to the value of that experience. It’s very important that I continue to remember and acknowledge it wherever I go in this life.

I hope someday I can finally get into a headspace where I’m healthy enough to have a more positive attitude about my time living in SD. Right now all I can remember is the dark times…

Time to take some space from this issue for the rest of the day. I must let this stew marinate a little more before serving it up…