BLOG: The Hong Kong Judging Club

Posted on September 4, 2026September 4, 2026 Posted in BlogTagged Auntie Bella, Finance Bros, HKJC, Hong Kong, horses, Mardi Gras, Mid-Levels, Neighbor Guy, Nepal, New Orleans, Peel Street, Secret Society, SoHo Queen, South Dakota, Thailand, the Island of Lost Guys, The Peak, The Wolf, Wan ChaiLeave a comment

Friday.

At the brunch spot. It’s about 4pm. I decided to eat before I go out tonight because I have learned my lesson, theoretically.

The server is from Nepal. I chat with her every time I come here. She’s pretty cool. She just asked me for my contact info. She wants to meet me on her day off so she can sit down with me and tell me her story. She offered to pay me to write it for her, but I told her she can just gift me a bottle of wine instead.

She has told me before that she sends most of the money she makes working here in Hong Kong back home to her family in Nepal. I think we can all agree they need that money more than I do right now. Do I need money? Yes, of course I do. Do I need money badly enough to take it from a Nepalese person after a major catastrophic disaster directly caused by climate change wiped out dozens of villages and killed thousands of people?

No. No, I do not.

Honestly, she doesn’t even have to bring me the wine. It would be an honor for me to sit down with her and give her a chance to share her story and speak her truth. I am flattered that she asked me to take down her life story. She doesn’t have to give me anything in return. I know she feels like she should pay me for any and all services rendered, but I’m not taking it. I refuse.

It is what it is.

Now for the juicy stuff. And by that I mean, the Secret Society content we are all waiting for…

So, first thing is first, our friend from the bathroom is still a problem. I saw him at The Wolf on my way up to the Mid-Levels. Without revealing too much, I will explain that The Wolf is located on a corner with one side that opens directly to the street. I usually walk by there on my way up the hill to check who is in there. I pretend like I’m not looking, but I am 100% always looking!

On this evening, Mr. Bathroom was sitting there street-side with two of his friends. I walked right by him, heard him speaking Spanish, and recognized his voice. I pretended I hadn’t heard anything and kept staring straight ahead as I walked past. When I got on the escalator and was far enough up so as to no longer be seen, I peaked into the bar and confirmed that it was indeed him.

As soon as I saw him, I thought to myself, “He’s going to follow me up to the Secret Society. I bet any amount of money he’s going to finish this drink and suggest to his friends they move on. I know it. I just know it.”

As per usual, I was right in my assumption. I walked into the Secret Society and he showed up with his friends about 10-15 minutes later.

Like, OF COURSE he followed me. Of course he did! He knows I don’t like him or respect him and that I think he’s a disgusting pig. Why wouldn’t he follow me?

Men are weird like that. I told my neighbor I think he’s hot and he literally vanished into thin air overnight. I told this Finance Bro I think he sucks, so now he’s following me around like a stray dog. Ridiculous.

Auntie Bella WAS right: If you want real results with a man, Call Him Ugly.

I decided to ignore this intrusion and chat with my English and Irish banker friends instead. They were sitting with a friend who I had not previously met before. He was wearing floral swim trunks and a t-shirt. He told me he just got back from two months in Thailand. Lucky him!

He told me he “works with horses.” I googled him this morning and that’s… definitely an understatement, lol. I will not go into further detail because one of the conditions of my membership at this establishment (or so I perceive) is that I do not doxx the other members.

This establishment is the sort of place where the big wigs like to hang out without having to feel “special,” or however you want to say it. In their lives and their jobs, they are Very Important. At this place… they are just normal people out having the craic at the pub after work. They will be vague about what they do for work, they may or may not give you a fake name to throw you off their trail (I am guilty of doing this myself, so I get it), and they will undersell themselves every time. They could be the top person in their field in the entire fucking world and they will not tell you.

Do you follow me?

Yeah. Right. That’s why I’m calling it “The Secret Society.” It literally is what it is.

I digress. This gentleman did allude to the fact that he was kind of a big deal multiple times, but he kept derailing my questions about his job because he didn’t want to talk about it. Obviously, I thought this was quite hilarious when I looked him up later. I just laughed when I saw his CV like, “This is the same man I just met wearing floral swim trunks to the bar in his post-Thailand haze?”

As the kids say… Sometimes it really do be like that tho. *shrugs*

He asked me to come home with him, but I said no, because duh. Then he wanted to know if I would ever date a man twenty years older than myself (obviously I already have) and if I am looking for a boyfriend. I said, “Maybe, but it depends on what you’re offering me.”

“What do you want?”

“I just want to have fun. Get me out of this goddamn bar. Let’s go have fun adventures around Hong Kong. I’m fun to have on your arm at a really boring party. I’m a member of the HKJC: The Hong Kong Judging Club.”

He gave me a little smile and took down my number, then left to walk up the hill to his luxury apartment or whatever. I guess we’ll see what happens now. Haven’t heard from him yet! Next time remind me to call him ugly…

LMFAO!

Yeah, I know, it’s not great, but it is what it is. Banging random hot sexy beefcakes is fun, but it would be way more fun to have a rich boyfriend who takes me to horse races, yacht parties, and on impromptu trips to Thailand.

IT IS WHAT IT IS!

After he left, I realized I was alone in the bar with Mr. Bathroom, his friends, and a lady I’ve seen hanging around him many times. She says they are “very close friends.” Mmmmhmmmm. I bet you are, Ms. “Loudly Brags About Her Sex Toy Collection To Anyone in the Bar Who May or May Not Want to Hear This Information.”

Anyway, this gangbang-in-the-making had “NOPE” written all over it, so I left the bar and headed on back down the hill.

I stopped at the Cantina to visit with my friend, then ran into the SoHo Queen at the corner bar on Peel Street on my way home. Naturally, she wanted to hang out, so I agreed, but only upon the condition that she never take me back to Wan Chai ever again.

Instead we went to a random bar around the block and got shitfaced. I love that lady. She’s definitely scary and crazy and ridiculous, but she’s also a motherfucking gangsta-ass bitch and I have nothing but respect for her.

I know, I sound like a shallow social-climber who only cares about money, power, and status. What can I say? I just spent 17 years of my life living in South Dakota, being treated like shit and kicked around for sport by the dumbest of the dumb and the lowest of the low. We all know I’m better than that.

As we have seen by the EXTREME reactions to my writing in multiple parts of the world, I am a very powerful person. At this point in my life, I have simply chosen to align myself with the people I see as my equals in this world. In order to become my best self, I must surround myself with other powerful people who can elevate me to the level I should have been on this entire time. I’ve spent enough time running around with the riff-raff down by the docks. That’s not who I really am deep down in my soul.

And honestly? I just want the lifestyle I grew up with back. I’m sick of struggling. I’m sick of working low-level jobs that any idiot could do for scraps from the table. I’m sick of being surrounded by people who act like crabs in a bucket. I want to climb to the top of the Peak, dress up in all white, and look down at everyone in my old life like they are nothing but tiny little insignificant nobodies to me. I want to get to a point in my life where nobody can ever touch me again. I don’t know what I have to do to get to that point, but I do know the entire idea of it is motivating AF. I didn’t come to Hong Kong to be a teacher. I came to climb to the top of the motherfucking mountain. So that is what I am going to do…

Off now. I should be finishing my Island of Lost Guys story, but I’m still letting it simmer for a bit. My Neighbor’s character has a lot of things to say, I guess. Let the man speak!

In the meantime, I will enjoy this sudden role reversal where I am the one who is now sitting up on the hill dressed up in white looking down at him. Just kidding, of course. Afternoon tea on the veranda is soooooo not my thing! I much prefer a balcony decorated with Mardi Gras beads where I can chill in my mask with a frozen daiquiri and look down at the plebs drunkenly wandering the streets far below me. As we say in New Orleans, laissez les bons temps rouler!

It is what it is… 🙂 🙂 🙂

Welcome to the Hong Kong Judging Club!

BLOG: Questions Answered

Posted on August 31, 2026August 31, 2026 Posted in BlogTagged Finance Bros, Hong Kong, MFA, Mid-Levels, Neighbor Guy, Secret Society, South Africa, Thailand, the Island of Lost Guys, The Wolf, WritingLeave a comment

Tuesday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who else was there?

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

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

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

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

Whatever…

Let’s see… who else…

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

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

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

Hahahaha.

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

Ivy Leaguers. They are what they are, lol.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wrong. So wrong.

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

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

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

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

Sigh.

Anyway, back to the writer…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now we know.

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

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

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

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

Off now! Have a good day. Farewell!

BLOG: Revenge is Mine

Posted on August 14, 2026 Posted in BlogTagged Finance Bros, Hong Kong, Mid-Levels, Neighbor Guy, Secret Society, the Island of Lost Guys, The WolfLeave a comment

Friday night.

Here we are, sitting at the Secret Society, alone in the corner with a full view of the room (which is almost entirely men except for myself, the bartender, and two female patrons accompanying a much larger group of men. The only person I know here (other than the bartenders) is the guy from The Wolf who I do not like. I guess I’ll just sit here and wait and —

Literally, right as I was in the middle of that sentence, he got up and came over to me. He’s like, “Come sit with me at the bar!”

I’m so tired of men. I was just like, “Why would I do that?”

“So we can have a chat.”

“About what?”

“Anything you want.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Yes, but why does that matter? I’m asking you for a chat, not to come home with me.”

Oh, I don’t know, probably because the last time I agreed to sit at the bar and “chat” with you, you dragged me into the bathroom, offered me a line of cocaine, and then groped me in front of everyone at the bar. So, yeah, not exactly in a rush to hang out with you again.

“I’d rather sit here alone in the corner and write my book.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

He looked at me sadly.

“Okay, I just want you to know you look really beautiful today.”

“Okay, thank you, have a nice day, namaste!”

So I sent him on his way back to the bar alone and continued on writing.

Thank you, Universe, for giving me this singular moment of redemption. I really needed this. I could finish this glass of wine right now and not get drunk at all and then head on down the hill back home and I would feel good about the decisions I made tonight. Boundaries!

Wow, I really needed to do that. I’m just so tired of men who think they can just walk all over me. Today, I stood up for myself. I am proud of that.

My life dynamic right now:

Me: I need to escape from my neighbor. I’m going out to the bar.

The Men at the Bar: We are worse than your neighbor!

Me: I need to escape from this bar and get back home to my neighbor.

Wait, no, none of these options are working for me. Maybe I should start thinking about moving again. No men allowed!

Hmm… wow… rejecting that man just now really did fill me with a sense of happiness and pride that is quite unfamiliar to me. Just think, I could walk over there and make a terrible decision right now. Instead, I am sitting here alone in the corner with my notebook and my wine and I’m perfectly happy to exist in this world without men.

Let’s drink to not making any terrible decisions with men today!

HASHTAG: GROWTH! HASHTAG: CHANGE!

Oh wait, oh no, he’s coming back again. I can tell this man is not used to hearing “No.” He really seems incapable of taking a hint.

“What are you doing after this?”

“I told you, I’m working on my book. That’s what I came here to do.”

“Here? Really?”

“Yes, really. I’m a writer and I came here to write a book. That’s what I do. Okay, have a good night. Have fun with your girlfriend. See you again soon.”

*stares at me longingly with what I can only assume is his attempt at a smoldering gaze*

Gross.

OMG, he thinks he’s so smooth. Ridiculous.

Bye Felicia!

Okay, now I have to decide if I should have one more for the road or pack it up and call this night a win. I literally don’t even have to do anything else right now. Don’t have to talk to anyone, don’t have to resolve any stories, don’t have to seek out any new stories, nothing. I can just go home right now and wake up tomorrow with a full-blown self-esteem boost from rejecting this guy. No hangover, no nothing.

Hmm… I don’t think I’ll go home quite yet, but I am done with this bar right now. It’s just a bunch of men, and I am definitely NOT in the mood to deal with a bunch of men. Especially a bunch of strange men I am completely unfamiliar with…

Well, that decides it. We did what we came here to do tonight. Mission accomplished.

The End.

BLOG: One Week’s Worth of Posts

Posted on July 30, 2026July 31, 2026 Posted in BlogTagged American Bar, Bangkok, Bloody Mary's, Central, Finance Bros, Hong Kong, India, Kowloon, Mid-Levels, Neighbor Guy, Secret Society, South Dakota, Thailand, The Sketchy Place, The Wolf, yogaLeave a comment

Wednesday. Here I am, at the Secret Society. I can’t stay away in spite of all evidence that I should. It is what it is. You know me.

I finally got a new pair of glasses, so I can finally stare at a screen for pro-longed periods of time again without hurting my eyes. It’s been, like, what? A whole week since I’ve written anything? No wonder I’m starting to lose my shit.

Now… where did I leave off?

Ah yes, I was right here, at the Secret Society. I had just been forced to put away my iPad because of an oncoming shark attack. Luckily, none of the sharks are here right now. It’s too early for them, I think. Hopefully I’ll be able to finish this post and make it out of here before they show up and start swarming me again. I assume they’re all down at The Wolf right now, which is everywhere I don’t want to be.

Okay, let’s go by the day… starting right where we left off…

THURSDAY

So I rolled up here and nothing interesting happened for awhile. All those old bankers were up here celebrating a birthday. I chose not to get involved. Not trying to get friendly with a bunch of old married men, as previously stated. Especially this crowd. I ignored them, they ignored me, everything was grand.

Then my Irish friend (he needs a name that isn’t Seamus lol) from Dublin showed up. You know, the married one who confessed his “love” for me, yet refuses to divorce his wife even though it’s clearly not working out between them. Yeah, that guy. Winner winner chicken dinner.

So we started chatting, but he was annoying me, as per usual. Luckily, right at that moment, that crazy old British Banker who roped me in here the first time around showed up to interrupt the conversation. He walked past us to go to the bathroom and gave me a sideways glance. I turned to my Irish friend and said, “Watch this.”

The British Banker (also needs a name) came back and immediately walked up to greet me. I asked him how his plot to overthrow the British Monarchy and install Trump as King is going.

“Now’s your chance,” I said. “The monarchy is old, weak, and unpopular. The Prime Minister is a cat. Brexit has ruined everything. It’s all very Shakespearean. I think you’re really set up for success here if you give it the good ol’ college try.”

The Irish guy snickered to himself as he watched this exchange. Meanwhile, the British Banker gave me a defeated look and sighed deeply.

“Oh no, no no,” he said. “Trump is an idiot. I simply can’t stand him anymore. He’s a clown running a big tent circus show.”

Oh, really? You don’t say. I’m amazed you finally figured it out. It’s like… Wow, that only took, what, like, four months? Hmm. Wonder what changed. Aside from… well… everything…

Anyway, so happy to report the plot to install Trump as King of the Commonwealth is no more. I guess they’ll be passing it on down to Wills & Kate after all. As they say, the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.

“Say,” he asked. “How old are you anyway?”

“I’m 37, turning 38 this year. I’m getting close to cougar status. You better watch out or I’ll sneak up on ya!”

“You can’t sneak up on me.”

My Irish friend and I gave each other a sideways glance and I started laughing again.

“Oh, I think I already did.”

Needless to say, he found this very amusing and decided we are friends now. Sure we are. Why not? Everyone knows my favourite people to make friends with in this world are rich old white men. And here I don’t even get anything out of it except a bunch of random, ridiculous stories. Love that for me.

As this conversation came to a close, so did the bar. I packed up my things and headed on down the hill. I stopped by the Cantina on the way down, where one of my friends was working. We will call her Kitty (she chose this name herself). I stopped in for a drink while they were closing down the bar. That was when the ghost showed up.

As it turns out, my much beloved Cantina is haunted AF, which explains the slightly-off vibes there. The ghost was very much present on this evening, as evidenced by the flickering lights, weird vibes, and ever-present creepy feeling of being watched by a nonhuman entity. Kitty was terrified, so I walked her home since we lived in the same direction.

So ends Thursday.

—

FRIDAY

Friday was busy for me. I went to a shop nearby to pick up a pair of new glasses since I lost my other pair. Got an eye exam, which I haven’t had done in literally 20 years because the American healthcare system is wildly overpriced hot garbage.

Turns out I needed a prescription after all. Picked out a lovely set of frames, added in the blue light protection, and paid about $125 USD for the entire package. Mindfuck. In the US, the frames alone would cost $300-$500. Such a fucking rip-off.

After that, I decided to go visit the witches under the bridge in Causeway Bay for some good old-fashioned villain hitting. It’s a ritual where you write down someone’s name and put a curse on them. For me, I wrote down the name of someone who I felt put a curse on me roughly ten years ago. I didn’t want to curse him. I just wanted to cut the cord between us once and for all.

I won’t say who it was. I will just say it was someone from Verm who has caused me a lot of pain and anguish over the course of a decade. Personally, I feel like it’s very obvious. If it’s not… you clearly haven’t been keeping up. I think we all know who the main character in Bloody Mary’s was, and it’s definitely not me.

Anyway, I just wanted my energetic field to be free of his essence once and for all.

Prior to going to the bridge, I performed a protection ritual on myself. I meditated, set my intention carefully, and dressed in all white. I don’t mess with black magic/bad medicine/bad juju/whatever you want to call it. I fully believe putting a curse on someone will come back at you ten fold. That’s why I was careful to set my intention to cleanse myself, not to curse someone else.

I walked around the coven and looked for the perfect witch to cast the spell. For this, I decided to go with my gut. I think I chose right because the results were apparent right away. I left feeling lighter, happier, freer. It was the best $50 HKD I’ve ever spent.

I returned home to find my neighbor acting weird, as per usual. No idea what’s up with him, honestly. I keep trying to dig and he won’t tell me shit. You know these English guys. They’ve always got something hidden in their attics.

I straight up said to him, “Okay, if you refuse to tell me, my mind will fill in the blank for you. I will just assume you have a haunted portrait or a mentally ill ex-wife locked up in an attic somewhere.”

He didn’t say anything to that. Mmm, yeah… that’s what I thought, Mr. Rochester. It is what it is. I’m done digging. I’ll let that one come to me. I’m over this whole “In the Mood for Love” dynamic. I don’t need this shit. I can go out any night of the week and take my pick from the crowd. Fuck that.

This she says as the bartender she made out with last week stands directly in front of her. Haha.

This leads me into Friday Night, aka Girls Night Out. It was my friend’s birthday. I haven’t given her a fake name yet even though she’s the first friend I made when I came back to HK. I haven’t been doing well with this. Let’s call her… Anastasia! Haha, inside joke. She also chose this name for herself.

I met up with Anastasia at a random spot along the escalator. One of her regulars was there so he bought us some dranks. We hung out with him for awhile, then walked down to the Cantina to pick up Kitty. She didn’t want to close alone because of the ghost, so we sat and waited for her while she finished up.

As we were waiting, the bartender I made out with last week appeared. They both knew him already because they’re all Filipina/o. My friends immediately picked up on the weird vibe and looked at me like, “What was that?”

I made the mistake of telling them what happened. Y’all, they were SCANDALIZED! They wouldn’t stop giving me shit about it for the rest of the night. They started calling him “The Pirate” because I told them to stop screaming his real name so loud half of Central can hear. Like, girl, do you know who I am? No real names, please! So now the joke is just “Oooooooh Pirate!!!!” Like, yeah, he really do be out here looking like a pirate though. It is what it is.

After that, we went down to the Nepalese shisha bar for a drink and a smoke. We were there until about 3am. Kitty took off home, while Anastasia and I went to a late-night Indian restaurant I had no idea existed. It was amazing. Loved it.

Finally got home some time around 4am. My neighbor, whose name is now Mr. Rochester until he makes a decent argument in favour of something better, was definitely awake when I came home. I know because I heard him get up and go out onto the rooftop. He does this pretty regularly.

Unfortunately for him, I was in a different dimension thanks to the combination of the witch’s spell, the dranks, the shisha, the Indian food, and the two hits of a vape pen I took from some random finance bro at the bar. There would be no weird rooftop meeting on this night.

—

OMG, this is getting to be such a chore. Now you know why I have to write every single day. Trying to go a week at a time is just too much for me. No wonder I’ve been feeling so crazy.

Definitely had to take a break from writing for a minute. Also, the usual Krewe of Sharks showed up and wanted to talk to me. My not-so-secret identity has officially been revealed. I’ll get to that later…

Anyway, continuing on…

—

SATURDAY

Saturday morning I woke up as if it was any other ordinary day and checked my IG. The first person on my “People You May Know” was one of the mean girls from the yoga shala in India. Apparently she made herself a professional yoga teacher account and decided to use it to creep on me.

I clicked on it and discovered she is now marketing herself as a “trauma-informed yoga teacher.”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Bitch, PLEASE! Get the fuck OUT! You are not a fucking “trauma-informed yoga teacher.” You’re a mean girl with an Instagram account. Shut the fuck UP!

“BREAKING NEWS: The worst person you met at your YTTC is now a trauma-informed yoga teacher!”

LOL! LMFAO!

That’s the funniest fucking shit I’ve ever seen. Wow. Just… wow. Daily Inspiration for you: you really CAN be anything you want to be. All you need is an Instagram account and some basic-ass marketing skills.

God, that totally made my day. That’s fucking hilarious. I literally cannot even. I mean… good luck with that, girl. I mean that sincerely. Personally, I would never take your class after the shitty fucking way you treated me while I was ACTUALLY trying to sort out my trauma. Yikes!

Fucking delusional.

Anyway…

So that was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Pure delusion right there. Truly fascinating from a psychological perspective. Like… really? I can’t.

Okay, moving on.

I got up and dressed and walked over to SYP to meet up with an old friend I met in Paris back in 2011. We met at one of Jim Haynes’ dinner parties. He’s this famous American who used to throw weekly dinner parties for strangers in Paris. It’s a whole thing. You can go look him up.

We met up for coffee and lunch and caught up on the last 15 years. He’s writing a book. He asked me a lot of questions about my writing. He also wanted to know why I never moved to Paris. I explained my crazy family situation to him. He said, “Yeah, you know, that never quite sat right with me. I remember when I met you that you had a very specific plan for your life. Then I kept checking in on you and you were still out in South Dakota. I just kept asking myself… what happened?”

Well, now you know! And now I live in Hong Kong instead, so it all worked out in the end!

So that was fun. We went our separate ways again. I returned home to prepare for the oncoming typhoon. Stocked up on snacks and drinks. Made sure the windows were sealed shut. Snuggled up in bed to watch TV all night. Fun times.

—

SUNDAY

This whole day was occupied by the typhoon. I couldn’t go anywhere, nor did I want to. Sorry but I’m not brave enough to go out wandering around in extreme weather just for the sake of the gram. It is what it is.

—

MONDAY

The most exciting part of this day is when I discovered an American grocery store in my neighborhood that sells Costco-sizes of American products. I got a giant bottle of Frank’s Red Hot Buffalo Sauce and a giant container of Creole seasoning. Yasssss. So happy! It’s the little things in life, truly.

—

TUESDAY

I did nothing.

—

WEDNESDAY

Finally, something interesting happened! I went up to the Secret Society, as previously mentioned. There was no one there when I first arrived, which gave me enough time to write out the events of my life up to Saturday. That’s when the sharks showed up.

I was busy typing away when I heard someone announce in a loud British accent, “There she is! She’s writing! She’s writing!” It was the Banker dude. OMG, he really needs a name. Now they all need names, because they found me out!

So when I’ve been up there, I’ve been going by the name Liz. I just didn’t want to be known, I didn’t want to be found, and I definitely did not want any of them to find out I’ve been watching them this entire time.

Unfortunately, they caught onto me. How? Well, I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that it’s because I’m a young woman in a room full of old men, sitting at a keyboard clacking away. In my mind, I think I’m invisible. In their minds… not so much!

And so they finally unmasked my not-so-secret identity as Betsey Horton, Writer Extraordinaire. I think they were all slightly disappointed to discover that I’m a writer, not a spy. I know. I’m disappointed too. It is what it is.

Naturally, they wanted to know more about my writing. At first I was nervous, but then I remembered that I was standing in a room full of highly educated people who live and work in Hong Kong making a fuckton of money. This is not some shitty dive bar in South Dakota full of aggressively illiterate MAGAts, nor is it an expat bar in Bangkok where shady people go to hide from their extensive rap sheets back in the West. It’s a different audience, for sure.

There is a reason why I joined this club, and this is exactly why.

I told them about Bloody Mary’s Bar, which they were highly amused by. I’m not even kidding right now, you guys. These gossipy old queens ATE THAT SHIT UP AND LEFT NO CRUMBS! Caught their interest right away, as I knew it eventually would if I sat on it long enough. Looks like that curse worked, MWA HAHAHAHA!

Then I explained what happened in Bangkok and about how mad everyone at the American Bar was that I wrote about them. The HK-era were like, “Well, of course they were mad. Thailand is where shady people go to hide.” TRUTH!

So then they wanted to know what I’d been writing about them. I said, “Oh, not much. I came here to hide, not to write.” Lies! I did not tell them the story about how I met all of them at The Wolf, nor about their friend and his little stunt in the bathroom. I mean, they were all there for that, but I doubt they remember. I remember, though. That’s not a story I’m likely to forget any time soon.

I was really scared they were going to be mad and throw me out. Instead, they laughed. They thought it was funny! They were like, “Oh, I want to read that. I want to see what fake names you come up with everyone on the Island and try to guess who they are. Haha, that’s so funny. You’re just like Lady Whistledown!”

So now my nickname is Lady Whistledown, which is hilarious, actually. Like, yep, that’s me. I am the modern day American equivalent of Lady Whistledown, and proud of it.

All of them encouraged me to finish the book I’ve been writing about my first year living abroad. I’ve never seen so many people cheering me on. It was wild! They are here for it!

My Banker friend was especially impressed with my discipline as far as writing every day goes. Like, “Oh, you’re for real, aren’t you?”

Yes, yes I am. I know it, you know it, everyone knows it!

And now they know the name Betsey Horton!

I still asked them to call me Liz, though. I just… really, really prefer to separate my writing identity from my every day identity. It’s a whole thing.

After bar close, I wandered on down the hill back home. Along the way, I ran into my Auntie, who I swear to god is secretly a gangster of some sort. We hung out for awhile at the corner bar across from the 7/11 on Peel Street.

That was when Mr. Pirate came along. I brought him back home with me to my rooftop, forgetting about the weirdness with Mr. Rochester. Mistake! Pretty sure Mr. Rochester came out onto the rooftop and saw us out there, because Mr. Pirate kept turning around and looking behind him and asking me if there was someone else there. I was like, “Oh, yeah, that guy. Just ignore him.”

Unfortunately, neither of us could ignore the invisible presence of the third party, so I had to send him on his way home. IDK. Maybe it’s all in my head. Or maybe… it’s not… because Mr. Pirate noticed it too and wouldn’t stop asking me about it. So… I guess I can’t be hosting any more guests at home now. Especially since the first insult Mr. Rochester lobbed at me during our first argument was, “All you do is get drunk and make out with random guys in elevators!”

Yeahhh…. Guess he’s decided to stake his claim to that specific elevator, lol. I mean, I get it. The thought of seeing him with another girl makes me weirdly jealous. I don’t know why. I don’t even like him that much. It’s probably because we are sharing a wall and he’s always around lurking in the shadows, waiting to jump out and scare me. He’s just this ever-present force in my life now that I can’t escape from. I would be so mad. I would be like, “Hey, that’s MY neighbor! Back off bitch!”

It is what it is.

Now I’m here at Ye Olde Irish Pub, the last place where I can hide. Yep, I’m a known quantity in the universe now. That means I gotta come all the way over to Kowloon to hide. And even then… they know me here too! Everyone knows me wherever I go! I’m special! I can’t escape from my fate! It has found me… again.

Alas.

Alright, I’m off to finish my Guinness (LOL) and then head on back over across the bay before the weather gets worse. Rain, rain, go away, come again some other day.

Have a lovely day!

BLOG: I Am Not Invisible

Posted on July 20, 2026July 20, 2026 Posted in BlogTagged Black Narcissus, Central, dad, Finance Bros, Hong Kong, India, Mid-Levels, Neighbor Guy, Secret Society, Sha Tin, South Dakota, The Season, The Sketchy Place, The Wolf, yogaLeave a comment

Monday.

I am not in my regular writing routine so I’m just sitting here right now like… where was I?

Ok. I had just finished watching The Season and speculating whether or not my Neighbor would have played the role he auditioned for in a significantly less sleazy manner.

Right.

So what do you think the next choice I made was?

That’s right. I decided to go up to the Secret Society and collect material for my own version of “The Season,” fancy yacht parties not included. Welcome to the Mid-Levels Madness. Here we go.

So, first thing is first. That place is so fucking WEIRD. I cannot describe the vibe up there. I’ve been in there multiple times now as a member, I’ve given it an open mind, and yeah, like… it’s definitely giving “Secret Society” vibes.

The first problem I noticed was that all the regulars clocked me RIGHT AWAY, but no one actually said hello. They all just gathered in the corner and started talking amongst each other. There is nothing unusual about this specific group behavior, but it was definitely giving weird vibes.

I briefly wondered if the married Irishman I just rejected last week was all up in there talking shit. Maybe! Who knows! Not sure why I’m the problem for saying I prefer to have a real relationship with a single man instead of falling for some married guy’s imaginary made up fairytale fantasy… AGAIN. No thanks, bro! That ship has sailed! But sure, do whatever you have to do to ruin my life so you can avoid accountability. I’ve seen it all before.

I decided to ignore it. Maybe they are not talking about me at all.

Eventually, this random lady I had never met before came over and started chatting me up. She was cool enough. I just felt really awkward because she made a comment about my appearance and I had to say, “I’m 37.”

I know that I look young, but rest assured, I’m not some random 23-year-old sugar baby looking for her next daddy. Pretty sick of the whole “predatory older men using me for the own agenda” thing, honestly.

So the whole conversation was awkward, but I managed to hold my own, as per usual. Living in South Dakota may have fucked up my entire life, but I grew up in the DC area to a father who was a very well-known prominent lawyer. I can hold my own in these rooms whether I want to, or not.

So the conversation was happening, and I just kept trying to steer it towards the fact that I am in the market for a job that is not F&B or teaching. I don’t know how well that went, but I made an effort.

Then shit got really weird. All of a sudden, this one old British finance bro turned around and gave me a huge hug out of nowhere. Everyone in the room just stopped and stared at me while I put on a fake smile and tried to pretend I wasn’t insanely uncomfortable in that moment.

“Oh, you know him?” The lady asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not well,” I said. “I’ve only met him here a few times. He’s the one who invited me to join.”

Another raised eyebrow. Yes, lady, I know. I’ve seen him out here creeping on young ladies too. I’m not an idiot. I know what’s going on. I ALSO don’t feel comfortable with him randomly putting his arms around me and showing me off to the whole crowd like a prized racing horse who just won him a trophy at Sha Tin.

So icky! Gross! It was just gross.

Somehow, it got worse. Right at that moment, out of absolutely fucking nowhere, the Finance Bro who invited me to snort coke off a dirty bathroom toilet seat and then proceeded to grope me in front of everyone appeared. And not only did he appear, but he, too, embraced me in front of everyone and made me do that obnoxious “kiss on both cheeks” greeting that, honestly, I totally get is cultural, but also… no.

Literally as he was kissing my cheeks, all I could think about was how close his face had probably been to a dirty bar toilet only moments before. Even as I write this… the expression on my face is like… ew… no… disgust… no.

I truly felt so violated in that moment. Once again, he just could not resist putting his grimy paws all over me and grabbing me in places I did not give him express, specific consent to grab.

Then came the most horrifying part: the fact that I CONTINUED TO PRETEND SMILING AND ACTING LIKE NONE OF THIS FUCKING BOTHERED ME EVEN THOUGH ALL I WANTED TO DO WAS RUN HOME AND SHOWER.

It was terrible. Honestly, so terrible. It really put me off going back up there again. Before, I was like, “Well… you know… it might just be me. Maybe I got too drunk, maybe I misunderstood, maybe there’s more to this place than I think, after all… it IS important to be in these types of rooms… you know, for the connections! Networking! This is just how it is. It’s the same in DC, in SD, in NYC, in HK, everywhere. You have to know which rooms are going to help you get where you need to go. This room could help me get where I need to go.”

But then… No. Girl, no! WTF?! Just… no!

For one brief shining moment, I really sat there and asked myself, “What am I doing right now? Why am I coming into this place where I have repeatedly been made to feel unsafe, just to listen to terrible old rich people spew terrible pro-colonialist Old Empire propaganda? All this, just for a blog post 10 whole people might read? Why? To what end? To get a job working for people like this? Why? So I can go back to the comfort of my suburban upbringing and never have to worry about money ever again? Is it really worth it?”

I don’t think it is…

Even now, just recounting this… the look on my face, the feelings I am feeling, everything, all of it. It’s like watching my whole life flash before my eyes.

Just… why?

I don’t know. I think South Dakota ruined me, tbh. All living there taught me how to do was compromise my boundaries and beliefs so I could feel extremely uncomfortable hanging out in rooms full of shitty fucking assholes, political opinions and socioeconomic status irrelevant.

Like… I don’t even know how to find a person I actually like. I have no idea how to have fun. I just think… “This is just how life is, Betsey. You just have to go out there and be around terrible people you don’t like all the time, and that’s just the way it is. You’re the problem for not liking it, Betsey. You need to learn how to turn off all of your feelings and opinions and just watch it all unfold in front of you live in real time. Then you go home and write about it later. That’s what being a writer is. That’s what it means.”

But like… is it?

Should I not be using this life to do something that makes me happy?

Of course!

But like… how do I do that when I legitimately do not know what makes me happy?

There are some things that make me happy. Sitting in a little street-side cafe on a rainy day, writing the afternoon away. Eating a plate of delicious food with the appropriate wine to pair. Snuggling up in bed and watching TV (mostly with my cat, who is sadly no longer with us). Learning new things. Reading. Drawing, painting, coloring. The feeling of hunting through a discount sale or secondhand shop in search for the perfect dress to wear out to dinner by myself just so I can feel beautiful for a night,

None of these things make money or involve a career. The career question is so hard right now. I literally do not know how to not be completely miserable at a job. I’ve mostly had TERRIBLE work experiences because the SD culture is so fucking hostile towards outsiders of all kinds. I can’t remember the last time I had a job I liked. I really thought teaching would be the change I needed, but it’s not.

My dream job is to not have to work in a place where I have to put on a big fake smile and pretend I’m a Disney character every day. I can’t do it. I can’t keep it together. I do not have that ability. I cannot hide my emotional state at all, ever. It is what it is.

I don’t know what’s right for me. Again, we just know it’s not teaching children or yoga, and it’s definitely not serving other people. But those are the only jobs I’ve ever had… and I don’t have the experience on my resume necessary to just switch without going back to school or finding someone to speak for me as a reference.

I just feel so stuck right now. My mind just goes back to the same place it always does: Fight, Flight, Fawn, or Freeze. Right now all I seem to do in HK is fawn or freeze. Now I’m a place where I either have to fight to stay or take flight. If I take flight, it’s very clear that I only have a certain amount of time/money before I end up back in the US, homeless, without meaning, purpose, or direction, and back in my abusive family home. If I stay here, there’s only a certain amount of time/money before my luck runs out and I end up in the same place.

But what if I flee to a yoga shala in India and hide out in the Himalayas until I go cray-cray a la Black Narcissus and jump off a cliff?

Why does that ending seem so inevitable all the time? Ugh. I fully blame my dad for saying dumb shit to me my whole life like, “You could be just like [insert name of writer who killed themselves here].”

Like, yeah, that shit is so real. I don’t even have kids or a husband or a house in the burbs, but I 100% get why Sylvia Plath stuck her head in an oven. You don’t need to encourage more of that energy to grow within me just to prove to your narcissistic ego that yes, you did, in fact, spawn a “misunderstood genius” who may not be accepted in this life, but maybe famous in the next.

Terrible parenting, tbh. 0/10, would not choose to be born to either of these nutjobs ever again.

Who am I? What am I doing with my life? I don’t know anything anymore.

All I know if that today is the perfect day to judge people based on their “umbrella walks,” so that’s what I’m going to do.

The End!

BLOG: One Year Anniversary

Posted on June 2, 2026 Posted in BlogTagged Dubai, Hong Kong, South Dakota, the Island of Lost Guys, The Russian, The Wolf, UAELeave a comment

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: The Wolf of Peel Street

Posted on May 26, 2026 Posted in BlogTagged Causeway Bay, China, Finance Bros, Hong Kong, India, Kim Kardashian, Paris Hilton, Shenzhen, The Kardashians, The Publisher, The Russian, The Wolf, Times Square, TTI, yogaLeave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just saying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wild.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Manifesting. Manifesting. Manifesting.

I am a Hong Konger!

BLOG: Gratitude Attitude

Posted on May 26, 2026 Posted in BlogTagged Bangkok, expats, Hong Kong, Ireland, Irish Family, Mid-Levels, Neighbor Guy, South Dakota, Starbucks, Thailand, The Sketchy Place, The WolfLeave a comment

Tuesday.

We are having a heat wave here in HK. That means everyone else is sitting inside enjoying the air on whilst I, a not-so-recent refugee of the unforgivingly cold and terrible winter weather of South Dakota, sit outside and bask in the glorious heat.

I never want to experience the cold, bitter, dark loneliness of the frozen tundra ever again. I never want to put on another heavy jacket or a set of long underwear or a pair of big old snow boots. I just want sunshine and warmth and halter top bikinis and flowy dresses with open-toed sandals. Forever.

Warm weather = my true soulmate.

I don’t care if I melt into a puddle of sweat. I need this heat more than anything else in the world. This frozen heart needs to be thawed. Show me the Vitamin D!

Yesterday was a holiday. It was not very exciting. I did two hours of Yin Yoga aimed at releasing ALL of my bad feelings about my past life in SD. I talked to my brother via video call. I went to the health cafe and got some fruit juice and a giant salad. I continued my re-watch of Emily in Paris in French. Ended the day with a conversation with my hot neighbor on the rooftop.

He apologized to me for being rude last time, then told me he knew that I was drunk. He said, “I knew because I heard you come home. You always talk to yourself loudly when you’re drunk. I can hear you. We can all hear you. Everyone on this floor can hear you. Please, please, please, on behalf of all of us, we like you, you’re cool, but please shut the fuck up.”

I just laughed at him for being so direct and said, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve gotten a lot better,” he said. “Especially the last few weeks. You’re nowhere near as bad as when you first got here. I can tell you’re trying, and we appreciate that. Just know… you’re not invisible here. We see you. We hear you. We know you.”

Sigh.

“I had a really scary experience at a bar in the Mid-Levels,” I explained. “It put a lot of things into perspective for me. It was like ‘Scared Straight: Hong Kong Edition.’ It was bad, but nowhere near as bad as my ‘Scared Straight: Bangkok Edition’ episode featuring the Irish Mafia. That’s the universe’s way of saying I need to get my shit together.”

He gave me a knowing smile.

I realized in this moment that this man was a true friend. I was not upset by his very justified criticism. Instead, I thanked him for genuinely trying to help me in a way that I did not particularly understand or recognize. He didn’t see me as a problem to get rid of. He saw someone who was struggling to make it here on their own and couldn’t deal with whatever pain from the past they were carrying. He genuinely wanted to help out of the kindness of his heart.

It was then he told me a story of how he had once found someone in crisis on the rooftop of his old apartment and stopped them from jumping. When I heard his story, I finally understood what he was seeing from his point of view. That was why he seemed to be so understanding and helpful.

I decided to change the subject. I thanked him for his advice about my CV and the job hunt. I told him about my interview and the kinds of questions they asked. He said he was fairly confident that I was a shoe-in. Then he gave me some more advice about how to build relationships, maintain a professional attitude, and ensure my reputation is protected on this very small island.

As he was giving me this advice, I thought back to my questionable experiences at The Wolf and The Sketchy Place and cringed. I thought to myself, “I hope in the future that if anyone recognizes me from the first six months of my time here in HK, they will say they remember me as someone who had a rough start, somehow managed to keep her head above water even though she was drowning and bleeding out in a literal shark tank, magically got her shit together, and eventually grew up to become the serious, professional she always dreamed of becoming.”

I guess we will see if Hong Kong deems me worthy of another chance at this life. I’ve noticed they tend to be surprisingly forgiving, especially if you are super positive about the local culture, which I am.

I just hope I’m good enough. I really struggle with feeling like I’m good enough… for anything in general. Understandable when your own family appears to be on a mission to make you feel as worthless as humanly possible. Many Hong Kongers and Asians in general can definitely relate!

Today I am filled with gratitude towards all of the expats who have helped me out this year. They have saved me from drowning in this shark tank so many frickin’ times. I am actually in awe of them. In SD, I became so accustomed to being treated like garbage. People are so hostile and cruel there.

Best example: how I was treated right after my dad died. Did my co-workers at Starbucks say or do anything supportive? No. They weaponized my grief against me in order to push me out of my job so I would lose the health insurance I’d been fighting to get for years. Why would they do that? Oh, just to get themselves more hours, of course.

Just disgustingly selfish, nasty, cruel people. After 15 years of bullshit, that experience was just the icing on the cake for me. I don’t care how many of those assholes bitch about me “making generalizations about South Dakotans.” You earned it. You deserve it. You did nothing the entire time but make me feel like I didn’t deserve to even be on this planet, let alone at that university or in that town. Now you’re mad that I’m calling you out on it?

Look, if SD people had been nice to me, I would just say that. I would write about them the way I write about the Expat community here in Asia. But I don’t. Why? Because you didn’t earn it, you don’t deserve it, and you should constantly be reminded how shitty you actually are in order to be held accountable for your crappy behavior.

I can’t wait for my life five years from now, when SD is a distant memory and I have all of my shit together. I hope for that to happen next year, but we’ll see. I’m still in transition.

One thing I know for sure is that I never would have made it this far on my own. I had help every single step of the way. I acknowledge that help. I appreciate that help. I am grateful for that help.

I never want to be one of these assholes who says, “I am so successful. I am self-made. I did it all on my own. Nobody helped me! I pulled myself up by my own bootstraps.” It’s such a crock of bullshit!

If you want to pretend you did it all on your own, great. I’ll be over here thanking the people who helped me get out of immigration jail, got me to the hospital when I was attacked by red fire ants, taught me how to pay my phone bill, and found me a locksmith when I locked myself out of my apartment at 4:30am like a dumbass. They are the real ones.

Thank you to everyone who has supported me on this very messy journey. It’s been the most incredible year of my life. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I just hope I get a second chance to do it right, whatever that means.

Off now. I must go buy a new package of bottled water. I learned recently that, by Hong Kong standards, I should be drinking at least 1-2 liters of water and doing 10,000 steps per day. I’m averaging about half a liter and doing about 4k steps on a good day. Not great. No wonder my skin looks so horrible. I’m dehydrated AF. Less alcohol, more water and fruit juice. Noted.

Have a good day!

BLOG: You Want To Go To A Real Party?

Posted on May 13, 2026 Posted in BlogTagged Causeway Bay, Central, Finance Bros, Hong Kong, India, SEA, the Phillippeans, The Sketchy Place, The Wolf, WritingLeave a comment

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: The Weekend Update

Posted on May 10, 2026May 11, 2026 Posted in BlogTagged 1880 Town, 711, Bangkok, Britishisms, Cambodia, Dave vs Dave, England, Finance Bros, Hollywood, Hong Kong, Irish Family, Kowloon, MAusGA, Mid-Levels, Neighbor Guy, Peel Street, SEA, South Dakota, the Island of Lost Guys, The Russian, The Sketchy Place, The Wolf, Triads, UK, USA, Verm, WritingLeave a comment

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!