Tag: the Island of Lost Guys

BLOG: Just on My Way to Pick Up Some Sausage

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Saturday.

I am at the bottomless brunch. I am way too fucked up to be here without my sunglasses on. It’s a lot. The Beach Boys is playing on the radio. It’s a whole thing with my dead dad. I can’t even.

What did I do last night? Oh my goodness.

I sat in the bar waiting all night to catch some fish. Nothing interesting swam my way, so I decided to move along back down the hill. Went to the Cantina. Met some random American from Tennessee who was in town on business. Took him to the Honky Tonk place. Ditched him there. Went to the gay club. Danced my face off. I think maybe I brought some random guy in there with me and made him feel safe enough to part ways? It is what it is.

Came home at god even knows what time. I drank so many dranks. So many dranks. I am still drinking the dranks. It’s… bad, yeah. It’s really bad. Okay!

Went out to get McDonald’s and ran into my neighbor on the way. That was very unexpected. I was not planning to see him when I was drunk and on my way to get a sausage. I had a whole UFC White House Front Lawn Fight Night Special planned for him. It was supposed to be Uncle Sam vs The Schlong from Hong Kong! Like *puts on Space Jam voice* “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get ready to rumble!” And then the music plays.

Yeah, he’s into sports and fighting and shit, he’ll get it. He would laugh at this! British people LOVE fighting! It’s like, in all the old-timey shows. They even have a whole holiday dedicated to their love of fighting. Yeah, it’s called Boxing Day. Duh!

Anyway, I was very shocked to see him somewhere that was not the rooftop, especially at 4:30am. Why is he even awake? Is he watching soccer? Sorry, I mean football. Yeah, I say “football” now. I’m so cultured now that I’ve lived abroad for a year. *tosses hair back*

Yeah, it was very off-script. I was mad at him again. Excuse me, sir? I hired you to be a background extra in this picture. You’re supposed to fit in naturally with the scenery, not show up in places you’re not supposed to be and make a whole scene. It’s not about you, it’s about our leading actress Betsey Horton over here. She’s the star of this show, okay? So just stay in the background and don’t make a scene.

Bahahahaha. He would love this. He would eat this up and leave no crumbs! What can I say? I know actors pretty well thanks to my old friend Tom de La Salle. So moody, so changeable, so many personalities, so many potential ideas to project upon this blank slate of a perfect male form. It is what it is!

Much better than mooning over Andrew, honestly. Ugh, I just CANNOT with that man anymore. Never again. Two books is enough. We’re not coming back for a third.

You know who would love the entire concept of Hong Kong as a pirate colony? One of my many exes. His name rhymes with “He’s got a really big dick.” Some might call him Merrick. I call him a douchebag (and an asshole!). It is what it is.

Anyway, he would love Hong Kong as a pirate colony. He would say to me, “I am not surprised to hear you’re living in a place that requires you to hire a set of beefcakes to carry you up the hill.”

I would say, “I wouldn’t treat another human being that way. It’s against the Geneva Convention. I am a strong ally and advocate for human rights.”

He would say, “Stop kinkshaming me! What if some men are into carrying beautiful women up hill on luxurious chairs? What’s wrong with it if both parties are consenting and someone is getting paid fairly for their time?”

“Oh, ok. Come here and start your own luxury chair lift business. You can make a lot of money off of Western tourists looking for a real, authentic colonial experience. Next stop: Opium Den!”

Ha ha, very funny.

Like, why am I even lying to myself right now? We all know there is literally nothing in life I would love more than to have two professional male entertainers (who are being fairly compensated for their time) carry me up these ridiculous stairs in a fabulously luxury chair. Like maybe one of those old-timey Roman-style ones with a variety of cushions and the chiffon curtains to block out the sunlight?

It is what it is!!!!

Don’t lie to yourself, Betsey. Just be who you are deep down in your heart. It’s okay if that person enjoys watching sexy hot beefcakes dance on stage in the Magic Mike Live show. You know, or maybe like The Thunder From Down Under, coming soon to a sleazy casino in Macau!

It is what it is!

Omg, I thought I could do the bottomless deal, but I can’t. I need to go home and go to sleep right now. I cannot even. One drink is enough for me right now.

Hopefully I will not run into my neighbor, who has at least seven personalities that I have seen (so far). You gotta watch out for those actors. They will change their shit up on you every single time.

One minute you’re in a romcom having a silly meet-cute on the stairs, the next he’s a backstabbing villain in a spy thriller, then he’s in army cosplay with a big gun doing Muay Thai on a boat, then he’s out here looking like a candy cane modeling some striped jacket, and the next minute he’s yelling at me about all the weird, random judgments about my life that he feels qualified to make specifically because he’s British. Then he’s all quiet and weird and guarded. Then he’s hiding in his trailer being a Diva. Then he’s out at 4:30am picking up sausage from McDonald’s. Like, what is even happening with this character right now? Why does he always make me feel like I’m in a movie?

Ridiculous.

You don’t see me threatening to call his sister up and be like, “Is your brother always this fucking annoying?” I don’t have to do that because I know what it’s like to have a brother, and I love him more than anyone else in the world, but the answer is definitely 100% YES, brothers are always annoying. It is what it is.

I’m so ready to blow this taco stand. When can we get on the next flight to Thailand? I’m ready to bang cock in Bangkok! LOL!

That song literally gets better with age. It will never get old. It’s an amazing guide to living life abroad, lololol.

Yup, definitely way too fucked up to be out in public without sunglasses on. It is what it is.

My life is a comedy routine! Come laugh at this ridiculous clown show, please!

HA HA HA HA HA!

Just think, I live in Hong Kong and I’m not even out on a yacht committing financial fraud right now. You know it’s still Friday night in New York? We still have time to get one last shade trade in before market close!

Snort snort, oink oink.

Hahaha!

Just think, we could be doing crimes on a boat right now, but we’re not. We’re sitting in Central drinking shitty prosecco, which I definitely just accidentally spelled as “prosexxo” because “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye came on the radio.

See, I told you the universe is calling me back to Thailand! I know it! I saw a vanity plate that said “HERMES” last night! It’s time to go live it up Irish Mafia Style, which apparently means taking shots of Fireball at some random expat dive bar in Thailand while the former owner shoots off a taser at the sky.

That’s a real, true story. I lived that. I did. I used to be so boring and live in bumfuck nowhere, South Dakota. Now I’m out running around with all the riff-raff down by the docks and living it up on rooftops in Asia and not even taking full advantage of the experience by doing crimes on a boat. What is that?

I’m not really the crime-committing type myself. I much prefer to watch other people commit crimes and then laugh them when they get caught because they are stupid. Is that a thing I can do? Is that a real job? Uh, yeah, I think it is, actually, yes. Does anyone know if the Wall Street Journal is hiring?

LOL!

Okay, there is a man out here with full on punk-style spiked hair, wearing all Adidas, taking pictures of random street corners in Hong Kong like it’s an interesting experience. Must be from the Mainland, lol!

Off we go. Ta ta!

BLOG: Men Aren’t Lonely Enough

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Friday.

Here I am at the Secret Society. It’s just me and a room full of old men, as per usual. Nothing interesting to eavesdrop on so far. Mostly just World Cup chatter. Snoozefest!

How is the situation with my neighbor? Oh, well… just full of ups and downs, as per usual. Now that I know he has been monitoring me so closely these last few months, I decided to return that energy and put him under observation for the week.

As it turns out, he is very boring. All he does is work and go to the gym and sit on the rooftop smoking with his ear pods in while staring at his phone. Talk about living life on Zombie Mode. What are you even staring at on that phone, bro?

Last night, he left a single protein shake on the stairwell by the communal trash area. It was just like… the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. This man is not lonely enough! No wonder he’s invested so much time into judging me. I am way more exciting than he is.

Anyway, his new nickname is “The Double Double” since he’s so stacked. Hello, Beefcake! Honestly, didn’t really notice it before since he was hired to be a background extra on set, but now that I’ve seen him up close, I’m ready to offer him a leading role. He could definitely play the bad guy opposite my good guy Russian in my Spy Thriller. For sure.

Also, just to explain this joke to Americans: At McDonald’s in Hong Kong, they have a late-night “Double Double” deal, which is two double cheeseburgers stacked on top of each other, no bun in between. Just four stacked beef patties.

Hehehehehehe.

Yeah, I mean, he’s pretty annoying, to be honest, but honestly… think about this right now. How did I get so lucky as to move to Hong Kong, fuck up everything, get a second chance, and then move in right next door to a hot and sexy beefcake/actor?

Like, that’s not even real. I could make a whole movie out of that right now and none of it even has to be true. It just has to be marketable to single women between the ages of 30-45 who dream of leaving it all behind and moving to the other side of the world.

Grand!

We might even be able to push that age range up. After all, he’s the one who told me to “cruise the mom’s groups for gigs.” Maybe he’s never taken down a fully- grown mountain lion, but he has clearly wrestled a few cougars. I really feel like we could capture the magic of that dynamic if we market it to a slightly older audience.

You’re only as young as you feel, ladies! It is what it is.

So, you know, he can keep acting weird and giving me the silent treatment. I don’t need him to be real. I just need him to stand there and be hot so I can project whatever story I need/want at the time onto him. That’s literally what actors are for. Duh!

Anyway, he did unblock me, but he did not add me back. Then he tried to shoulder check me when I passed him on the rooftop last night, but I was carrying my yoga bag so I basically just used it to body check him right back. Then I called him a “mean person” and went to set up my mat in the garden to meditate.

He is a mean person. He’s so judgy. British people and their judgments. Ugh! I’m starting to understand why I actually secretly hated studying English Literature so much back in university. The English… grrr… yeah, wow, the more of them I meet, the more I understand why I’m eligible for DAR membership. We had the American Revolution for a reason. That shit is real AF.

I know, it’s a whole fantasy. They brainwash us, truly. They convince us we want a Mr. Darcy, a Mr. Rochester, a Dorian Gray. But here’s the problem: they’re always hiding something in their attics. You think he’s being mean and condescending because he likes you, but really he’s just a jerk who is hiding a secret ex-wife up in the attic. It is what it is.

It is what it is.

I know, this one claims to be different. He says, “I’m not English, I’m a Hong Konger.” Like… okay… so as a person whose family came to American on a boat way before the Revolution, I don’t even have the energy to unpack the multiple layers of colonial processes happening over there right now. All I can say is… that explains why you’re so comfortable sitting on your little rooftop looking down at everyone else. It is what it is, bro.

I’m calling him the Schlong from Hong Kong because he’s such a fucking ding dong. It’s not racist. He’s white. Also, I can tell by his whole vibe that he was totally stoked to watch the White House Lawn UFC Fight with his bros at the latest stag do in Thailand. As we all know, no one is more oppressed in the modern day world than the white man. That’s what all of this is really about!

He’s just jealous of my freedom. It is what it is.

Anyway, this is lame AF.

Everyone is outside socializing while I sit here and write and watch. It is what it is. I have made peace with it.

Also, I just realized I desperately need to replace the blue light glasses I lost two weeks ago. It’s becoming a real problem. I definitely remember why I bought them in the first place. The radiation is just… too much.

Okay, okay, they’re talking about Hedge Funds now. Finally, something juicy. Why else even live in Hong Kong if not to eavesdrop on Finance Bros openly bragging about how efficiently they are running their crime schemes from a luxury yacht?

Oh, now it’s back the World Cup. So boring. Ugh.

Ugh, my brain already feels like it’s melting. Casually hanging out in a room full of wealthy men on a drug-fueled power trip is not for the faint of heart. Trust me.

Oh lord, here come more of them.

Funny.

Something, something, AI… something, something, evening the playing field in third world war-torn countries, something something, I look like I’m trying to listen way too hard and I’m definitely giving myself away right now by doing so.

Honestly, I really think people underestimate how hard it is to actually be a good spy. This is a real skillset. It’s so much more than just picking up James Bond at a bar and listening to him spill all of his international secrets while talking in his sleep. Who knew?

Omg, I could be narrating a nature documentary right now.

*puts on fancy posh British accent*

“Here we have an elder finance bro, a real British lad who has been occupying the island of Hong Kong since ye olde colonial days. Now we see him passing down his ancient wisdom to newest crop of finance bros, armed with nothing but AI and a sense of entitlement. See how he spreads his knowledge to ensure the continuation of the species…”

LMFAO!!!

I am actually hilarious. Tortured genius? Yes, definitely. Rising star with so much to offer the world? Also yes. Bored AF and ready to go to bed? Girl, yasss, am I fucking ever!!!

Now I understand why it’s so hard for me to get married. Whoever does it better be ready to sign up for a whole “Mr. and Mrs. Smith” type of situation. Domestic violence on an airplane involving the children not included, of course. That was actually crazy.

I’m actually getting bored right now. I miss Bangkok, tbh. Vibes.

Speaking of Bangkok, I passed a vanity plate on the way up here that said, “Hermes.” Something tells me Bangkok is thinking of me too, lol…

Okay, time to go. I’m bored AF and it’s still way early. So lame. Literally snoozefest. It is what it is. The End.

BLOG: I Need New Friends

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Wednesday.

It’s been a rough week. Both of the people I invited out for 4th of July bailed on me. So annoying!

I’m kind of over my one friend. We only ever seem to do whatever she wants to do. When it’s something I want to do, she either tries to get me to go somewhere else or she just bails. Then we end up doing exactly what I didn’t want to do, which is go out to a random bar and drink. Then she says all I ever want to do is drink at bars.

Like, actually, no. I wanted to go to brunch somewhere with a nice view of the harbor and a healthy menu. I wanted to go to Aerial Yoga. I wanted to go to a wine tasting. I wanted to go to a midnight painting session at the art studio around the corner. I wanted to go to HK Sevens. I wanted to go to Reggae Fest. I wanted to go to the Latin Carnival. I wanted to go to Quiz Night at the new expat club I joined. I wanted to go to Macau. I wanted to go to a junk boat party. I wanted to go to Lantau Island and go to the beach and ride on the air tram thingy. I wanted to go for real New York-style pizza before the stand-up comedy open mic so we could get into the right headspace.

You did not want to do any of those things. You cancelled on me, then hit me up way late to go get drinks at the bar and talk to random men. Then you complain about how that’s all I ever want to do? What is that? I get that you’ve been here forever and you’ve done all the things, but it’s weird that you complain about me never leaving Central when you’re the one who bails on me every single time I try to leave Central.

She is ten years younger than me, btw. It’s starting to get a little annoying. It is like she is in the beginning stages of the epic journey I went on at her age to find myself, which is great. The problem is that I’ve already been on that journey for ten years. I’m not trying to be someone’s free spiritual advisor. I’m trying to find someone on my level who wants to go out and do interesting shit. Instead, this person is constantly canceling on the fun stuff, then dragging me right back into the same scenery I’ve been trying to escape, all while simultaneously judging me for being there in the first place.

It’s giving big sister-little sister energy. I think sometimes maybe I am doing it because my little sister is out of the picture at the moment. She is dating some old creep and refuses to speak to me because she thinks she knows more about life than I do. I wish she would come to me with questions about this kind of stuff, but she doesn’t. She’s just mean to me, like everyone else in my family is. So yeah, probably subconsciously ended up hanging out with this chick because of that. It’s just like… meh. I really would rather go to a boat party or lay on a beach all day. I don’t get the judging, making alternative plans, bailing on said plans, then judging me again. It’s starting to get weird. It’s been long enough that a pattern has been established, and I just… don’t like the pattern I am seeing. I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone, not stay in it.

The other person who is acting ridiculous is my neighbor. He has gone full diva mode on me. I have no idea what happened. After his meltdown the Saturday night before, he proceeded to have another meltdown at me on the 4th of July. This time it was on Instagram, which he blocked me on shortly thereafter.

What are we fighting over? I have no idea. He’s being super judgy of me and yelling at me about how I need to fix my life. Meanwhile, he barely tells me anything about himself, then he randomly explodes at me via IG messenger about his personal issues that I didn’t know he had, then accuses me of judging him when in reality I was not judging him at all.

He’s the one who is British! They can’t help themselves. They are just naturally judgy and condescending like that. Like, I get it. He looked at me and saw a mess. He literally could not help himself. He had to try to sort out the mess. This is their way. This is what they do. I get it! And me being American, I just accept him for what he is and say, “I support your right to be whoever the fuck you want to be, and if this is it, then by god man, I will let you be this next-level Diva who hides out in his trailer all day long, Mr. Actor Extraordinaire!”

I guess I’m not really sure what happened over there. I actually was listening to him and taking most of his advice. I thought of him as a trustworthy, platonic friend. So yeah, I don’t know why he lost his shit at me and accused me of not listening to him. Maybe he has a new girlfriend or something and needed to make up some bullshit reason to stop talking to me. Yeah, that’s probably it. Otherwise, his behavior makes zero sense whatsoever. There’s probably a girl involved. There’s always another girl involved. Why wouldn’t there be another girl involved? Ha.

I need new friends. Ugh.

Is the social thing going well? No. Is the job thing going well? Also no. But is the writing going well? Actually yes, yes it is. I finally found a plot to go with my Russian! A real plot. A good, juicy thriller plot! A plot which involves shady dealings in Hong Kong and friends who appear to be enemies and enemies who appear to be friends and the international trafficking of illegal things and yassss it’s so good!

He would like it. He gets to be the good guy. I know deep in my heart that’s what he would want. At first he seems like the bad guy because he’s Russian and I’m not woke enough to understand that not all Russians are cartoon villains from Ye Olde Red Scare Era. But as the movie goes on, we find out he’s actually the good guy, and it’s the British guy pretending to be my concerned friend who is actually the bad guy!

And then they have sex in the high-rise! Bow chicka wow wow! Somebody give me an Oscar! I’ve already got my speech prepared! Wait, not really sure which one I’m talking about there. Maybe both? Probably not at the same time though. Not sure the Eiffel Tower needs to make a cameo in this picture. But, you know, we have time. Maybe it still could! Maybe they go to the Paris in Macau and…

Bahahahahahahahahaha!

I’m totally kidding. The joke was there. The opportunity presented itself and I took it. What do you want from me? Sometimes I make jokes just for me!

See? I got it. It just took me some time to get there. I really had to suffer for it first. As is the Russian Way…

Speaking of suffering, I had to suffer through another meeting with this random Irish guy I met a few months ago. He is ridiculous. Dude is married, obviously, which I’m so tired of. He is not happy in this marriage, as is evidenced by the fact that he literally took a job in Hong Kong to escape from it. Now he thinks he is in love with me because I let him dish out his whole Irish Spring Soap Opera of a life story to me while drunk. Sigh.

I had to sit there the other day and explain to him that he is not in love with me. He is avoiding an inevitable confrontation with his wife and using all manner of things to do it. He’s trying to use me as an excuse to kick the can further down the road, and I am not here for it. I am not interested in him, like, at all. The story… sure. Yes. Here for it. Him, himself? No. Not even a little.

I told him again I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to spend time together anymore. I do not return these imaginary feelings he has invented because he doesn’t want to deal with reality. I’ve been through this before. I’m over it. I’m tired. I just want to meet a guy who isn’t married or constantly lying and cheating or randomly melting down at me or planning to disappear after sticking their dick inside me one whole time. Impossible, I know. A woman can dream.

Like I just said, I need new friends. In the meantime, I’ll continue indulging in all the free entertainment this city has to offer in the form of crazy expats and their lifestyles of the bougie and unhinged. Ridiculous. At least I am deriving inspiration from it…

One good thing that came out of this past week: my grandmother called me. At first I was hesitant to pick up the phone, as I have not spoken to her since December and it did not go well. Still, I picked up the phone, mostly out of obligation and guilt. Much to my surprise, the conversation went much better than it has in many years. There was an element of respect there that was not there before. Like, “Oh, okay, you lasted the whole year out in Asia. You’ve survived 7 months on your own in Hong Kong. Maybe there is something there none of us knew about you before because we were too busy trying to control you to actually give you a chance to explore your own identity.”

Maybe! Who knew?!

Shock and awe!

Anyway, at least I am getting something done, even if it isn’t in-line with more traditional paths. I’ve decided not to worry about it. The Law of Attraction will take care of the job thing. I trust the universe to deliver the right employment situation for ME. That situation is clearly not F & B, retail, or teaching yoga/English. I do not know what it is, but a stable source of income is well on its way to me! I trust in the process. I just have to file the papers to get me there.

Alright, it’s about noon, so it’s time to run off and do any of the other 12 million things on my To Do list. May your day be better than mine!

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: 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: 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: 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: CAN-tonese or CANT-onese?

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Friday.

What a crazy week it’s been. Somehow I managed to accomplish everything on my To Do List except pay my phone bill. I don’t know how I forgot. I went to the phone store, I printed out my ticket, I planned to go pay it at 7/11, and then I forgot about it until this morning when I pulled said ticket out of my purse at the laundry.

I also ended up splitting my laundry into two portions again. I’ve learned it’s better not to dump all off at the same time in case something happens. There should always be a day for undergarments and a day for blankets, sheets, towels, and pillow cases. Never both at the same time.

I did a deep-clean of my studio this week and started making a bag of clothes that have shrunk, changed forms, or ended up destroyed somehow. It’s actually shocking how fast the clothes over here fall apart. How I long for stability so my brother can just ship me a crate with all of my clothes, shoes, books, and art in it. I think I miss my library the most. There’s just something about being able to pull out a book for a random reference check…

I’m definitely having some anxiety over my interview the other day. I’m trying to control it by making vision boards on Pinterest. I made one that just has memes on it that say things like, “The perfect job for me is already on its way to me!” And “Congratulations! You got the job!” Then I just scroll through it over and over and over again.

It really helped me because my inbox this week was otherwise full of more rejections. These jobs will literally put in the ad, “We provide visas!” and then they will auto-reject you if you say you need a visa. Make it make sense!

So yeah, definitely a lot of praying going on right now. Oh, I long for stability. The thought of having to pack everything up and start all over again somewhere else fills me with dread. I thought I would be into the nomadic lifestyle when I came to Asia, but now I see it really just is exhausting. I just want a steady job and a stable income and an apartment with a long lease that I feel comfortable in.

Thoughts and prayers, thoughts and prayers.

I have no idea what I’m going to do if I don’t get this job. This is the only interview I’ve gotten after almost a full year and hundreds of applications. I just pray and pray and pray and pray. More vision boards, more manifesting, more meditation, more cleansing rituals. Magic will get me a job. I truly believe that. I have no other choice than to believe it because if I don’t believe, things would be bad, and I didn’t risk everything and take a giant gamble to come here if it’s all just bad.

There has to be something good in this world. There just has to be.

Anyway, I do believe in the power of manifestation. I’ve been using my Pinterest account to make vision boards for like 10 years and most of the stuff I’ve put on there has, in fact, manifested. I traveled all over the US, I went to the Paris Writing Workshop, I did Yoga Teacher Training Courses in India and Bali, I’ve traveled to about a dozen countries, I did the TEFL, and I’ve lived in some amazing apartments. I’ve even built myself a whole new Island of Lost Guys and populated it with some real sexy international beefcakes instead of the abusive losers I was stuck with back home.

I can do this. I will just continue channeling all the positive energy and surrounding myself with light and love. I have completely avoided going out this week in favor of saving money and making better life choices. And by making better life choices, I definitely mean turning my studio into a meditation cave and visualizing the life I want in order to keep myself on track.

Oh god, I can’t get my mind off the job hunting thing. It’s been so stressful. I hope I get this job so bad. One interview out of a hundred or so applications. I still can’t believe it popped up. I was really frustrated with the job hunt, so I flipped a coin. Heads is Hong Kong, Tails is Cambodia. I got tails twice, so I reached out and contacted the yoga work trade person in Cambodia. Literally 15 minutes after I wrote the email, I got a call out of nowhere from this company here in HK and invited for an interview. Magic!

Later I received a message back from the work trade and the deal they are offering is even shadier than I expected. It’s so ridiculous how many people in the yoga “community” exploit the concept of “Bhakti” (service/devotion) for free labour. Let’s just say this person’s situation is one where they should definitely be paying someone professionally for what they are asking for. I was actually shocked by how exploitive the offer actually was. I haven’t even responded to it. It has “shady” written all over it. But, ya know, it is Cambodia, and if there’s one thing Cambodia is known for, it’s the fact that it’s shady AF.

Yet another reason to avoid the yoga “community” altogether. I started doing yoga for deeply intense spiritual reasons and for therapeutic purposes. Seeing how many people there are out there willing to exploit other people’s suffering for their own gain has really messed with me. Most of the people I’ve met through yoga have been straight-up gross. Selfish, narcissistic, very me-me-me-me-me-me. Exploitive. Manipulative. Just completely and totally unconcerned with the world around them. It’s definitely pushed me away from wanting to teach yoga or be around other yogis.

In the future, it’s something I plan to do just for me. I find I’m much happier when I’m alone in a park or on a rooftop or at the beach, moving my body in whatever way feels best for me in the moment. Being around the yoga community right now just completely kills my vibe. It’s just too much…

Okay, I’m off to meditate again now. I just talked to one of my friends from the coffee shop about my interview. He’s pretty positive for me. He says I have the “Hong Kong Can-Do Attitude.” He thinks anyone who can say they’ve been surviving in Hong Kong and SEA in general without a job is a good candidate. Hong Kongers tend to respect that. Game recognizes game. Sharks recognize sharks. Anyone who is willing to stay and fight for their place here deserves a spot. I love that. I hope he is right.

As they say, are you “CAN-tonese” or “CANT-onese”? Just kidding, I’m pretty sure no one here has ever said that. I just came up with it on my own. It’s a play on the whole “Ameri-CAN” or “Ameri-CANT” thing.

Oh god, please pray for me. I need this. I really, really need this.

Okay, time to go chill and meditate. The End.

BLOG: Confidence Boost

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Wednesday night.

At the Greek place. It’s pretty poppin’ tonight. The owner here recognizes me now that I have been here four times, including once with a friend. Also, I’m a beautiful lady. I can tell this man appreciates beautiful ladies. I’ve also heard his very personal yacht rock closing playlist, so yeah.

Usually when I am here, it’s empty or dead. Not so tonight. Happy to see it! The food here is really good.

How did my job interview go? I’m pretty optimistic. I did a lot of prep for it. I guess I was sort of put-off because I’m used to dealing with the “friendly fake Midwest nice” of South Dakota, not the directness of Hong Kongers. I found it quite refreshing, actually. Hong Kongers are very straight-to-the-point. It’s one of my favourite things about being here.

The first thing they did was give me a writing test. It was just a simple prompt with a 20-minute timer. Easy. What was the prompt? “Write about a time you faced a challenge and how you overcame it.” Easy! Moving to Hong Kong, obviously. I said that I took a huge gamble and risked everything to move here (true) to live my dream. This year has thrown a lot of crazy challenges my way, but the most difficult was loneliness (also true). I talked about pushing myself out of my comfort zone to go out and meet people and how it’s made a real difference in my time here. There’s no way I would have made it this far if not for the expat communities here in Hong Kong and back in Bangkok. These people literally saved my life.

I thought it was pretty good. I mean, it’s the truth. I’ve been out here for almost a year now and here I am, still swimming with the sharks, even though I thought I was going to drown multiple times. That’s badass and I should be proud, especially considering the fact that Hong Kong is a notoriously difficult place to survive without a job.

Onto the actual interview. We didn’t waste much time on my old job, thankfully. I talked about my writing projects, my travels, and my previous experience teaching. They asked me how I like living in Hong Kong. I mean, what’s not to love, right? I definitely hyped up my neighborhood since the office is so close by.

I also asked them about the company culture and highlighted it’s important to me to work with a diverse, international team. The company is very diverse. Some Americans, like I said. A good mix of other nationalities, all generally friendly towards Americans. I instantly felt better when she was describing the job and the company.

Overall, I think it went well. I hope it went well. They said they would let me know soon. My friend thinks I should keep playing the field and continue sending out applications just in case. I think she is right. Of course she is right. She has lived in Hong Kong way longer than I have. She knows how to play the job market.

I am actually weirdly motivated for the first time in many moons to be productive in this manner. Plus, I’m on a short deadline in terms of my visa, so it can’t hurt. I’m so ready to go back to work. I need structure and a paycheck and something to do besides sit around my apartment navel-gazing all day.

Seriously, though, if I spend any more time thinking about The Russian, my head will explode. How many times can we beat this dead horse until it finally dies? Ugh! It’s no different than it was with the Hot Beef Stew. The only real difference here is that the Hot Beef Stew sustained me through five months of wintertime starvation. Talk about Ye Olde Irish Magic! I love it!

Well, it could be worse. I could be the blonde woman sitting behind me stuck at dinner with some old Indian businessman. They’re definitely in a transactional relationship right now, if you know what I’m saying. Needless to say, he is taking the opportunity to explain life, the universe, and everything to this young fawn he’s taken under his wing. Snoozefest!

How do I know it’s transactional? Because he’s tracking the time on his phone. Now he’s buttering her up for a better career track by saying things like, “Look at you! You’re so great with people!” Yeah, I’m sure she is, lol.

Oh lord. I’ve seen things in Hong Kong I can never unsee. Some days it’s like… this isn’t even real. This is a movie, lol.

We gotta get this chick’s number and give it to The Russian next time he’s in town. She’s clearly a professional, and therefore perfect for him. She takes money for her time/services and he wants to spend his limited free time using those services. I should do him a solid and set him up with someone he can rely on for the services he needs. Then he won’t have to worry about making dumb promises involving giant bathtubs and room service to bored, cynical writers who will hold him accountable to his every word. He can just hand her a wad of cash and she’ll leave, no questions asked. And they all lived happily ever after. The End!

Maybe once I start working again, I won’t have time to think about him anymore. I am definitely ready to go full Hong Kong workaholic mode! Anything to forget about The Island of Lost Guys, lol.

Ugh, I am definitely ready to go home now. No late night for me tonight. I’m in the mood to stay at home and behave myself. Avoid men, and by extension trouble. Catch up on some sleep. Watch a movie on Netflix. Behave myself, like I said. Be a real, serious professional who is worthy of a new job and a visa extension. I can totally do this!

And if I can’t do this, I can always fail my way back into Thailand, lol.

But I can totally do this. I am such a Hong Konger! I showed up to the interview wearing a discount dress I bought from the boutique around the corner from the office and carrying an umbrella just in case. I am confident AF! Plus I had a notebook and my own pen. I nailed it! Confidence level boosted. Now it’s time to hunker down and hustle.

Off now. Time to go home and get some rest. Wake up tomorrow, finish my To Do List for the week, and re-approach my job hunt with newfound confidence. I can do this. Totally!