Tag: USA

BLOG: Irish Dancing in the Rain

Posted on Posted in BlogTagged , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Monday.

Here I am at ye olde Irish pub.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you, next.

ANYWAY WHAT WAS I TALKING ABOUT?!

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

I don’t remember who I am anymore.

Okay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have a nice day!

BLOG: The Weekend Update

Posted on Posted in BlogTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave 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.”

….

…….

………….

………………….

……………………………….

…..

………..

…

………………..

……….

…

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

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

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

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

My friend just laughed at me.

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

“So he’s saying he wants to bang me?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Hmm. Interesting.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right.

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

Men. Lol.

So that was Friday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*blows raspberry in his general direction*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have a good day!

BLOG: Me Want Deep-Fried Oreo Cookie!

Posted on Posted in BlogTagged , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Friday.

At the coffee shop.

I brought in a screenshot of the SCMP article about the crazy Aussie who was here harassing myself and the staff. The staff were all thrilled to see it, but they don’t think the punishment is harsh enough. The guy went to court and had to pay a $3000 HKD fine. They say it’s not enough. He was only charged on three counts when, in fact, we all know there have been dozens of incidents in the last two months. I guess only two places had enough cojones to charge him.

One of the places was apparently a massage parlor. Not paying for a massage in SEA will screw you over every time. Massage therapists don’t play, especially if they are Thai women. You will be paying for that happy ending, whether your want to or not.

Anyone who grew up in NOVA will tell you that a massage parlor is never just a massage parlor. Most of the time, it’s just a front for shady activities. You don’t know who owns that place or what’s really going on in those back rooms. It’s very easy to draw the attention of the wrong person in a place like that. That’s why I tend to avoid them like the plague. I don’t do massages unless I’m at a fancy luxury 5-star spa. I pay extra for the illusion of safety from any potential gangster activity. It’s a real thing.

So as I said, zero surprise over here that it was the massage parlor that took him down. Nobody in this world gets jerked off for free. There’s always a price to pay.

I didn’t do much yesterday. I was feeling sad about missing out on drinks with the journalists. Then I looked up the place they went to on Instagram and discovered it was closed that night anyway. That explains why they all disappeared so suddenly. Oh well. It wasn’t meant to be.

I’m not worried about it. It’s a small island and there aren’t very many Americans on it. There is no doubt in my mind that I will run into them again eventually. I’ll just go to that bar they named by myself on a random night and see what’s up.

It’s an American place. A real American place. It’s so American, the only thing they have on their dessert menu is deep-fried Oreos. OMG hallelujah praise da lord! My salvation has come, y’all! Me want cookie! Om nom nom nom! Maybe someone will catch me in the middle of my binge and be like, “Wow, she’s so relatable to me, an American person who also lives in Asia and survives exclusively on noodles, rice, and a variety of brightly-colored fruits. Let’s give her a job!”

I still haven’t made a decision about Cambodia. I did, however, get another offer to interview with a local studio owner here in HK. I should go for it, just to see how the pay/visa situation works out.

It’s the visa thing I’m worried about. I feel like I don’t *exactly* understand my situation? I have an HKID card, so I am a resident and I can get a new job, but it’s still tied to my old visa, which was never canceled but does expire in a month and a half. So I will still need a new visa to legally work here. I think? It’s just 1000x easier for companies to hire me now because I already have the HKID card and I’m in their system. I think. I think that’s how it works. I’m like 98% sure this is my situation.

So the thing with the yoga studio that concerns me is that they cannot sponsor a visa, nor can they offer me full-time employment that will pay my rent. Teaching yoga is, unfortunately, a highly-glorified side-gig (unless you go full Cult Leader in order to turn a significant profit). I need something more substantial to pay the bills if I’m going to stay in HK.

As I said, the gig in Cambodia doesn’t come with a paycheck, but it does come with a house, a scooter, a dog, and two meals a day. So it would basically just be cheap, easy living for two and a half months, and then… nothing, again. Dead-end. Everything is a dead-end. Literally every road I travel down leads me to a dead-end. I just want to stay on the highway for a bit and hit cruise control. I don’t know how to accomplish that goal.

I’m not very good at being an adult. I have no idea how I survive most days. I still feel like I’m mentally 20 years old and out experiencing the real world for the first time like I was supposed to do in college. Unfortunately, my parents decided to drag me out to the middle of fucking nowhere and say, “You don’t get to experience real life. You have to stay in prison out on the lone prairie forever. You don’t get to make friends or date age-appropriate men or succeed in school or have a career. The only purpose for your existence is so we can have someone there to scream at every day and project our shitty, miserable marriage problems onto. Sure, I guess we could acknowledge that our children are grown adults capable of making their own choices, or we could just force them to do things our way and then act shocked and surprise when we don’t turn out to be functional human beings.”

I think if my parents could have, they would have just given me a lobotomy and let me rot in an asylum somewhere while using the story to garner sympathy from others. So gross. I really do hate them. Like, actually. I legitimately hate my parents.

I am legitimately happy my father is dead. I know I’m not supposed to say that, but wow, yes, I am so grateful that man is finally dead. Now I can live my life the way I always wanted to live it without being screamed at on a daily basis. Hurray!

I’m also grateful I never have to see or speak to my mother or any of her ridiculous family. I hate them too! I don’t care who knows it! I hate my family! I’ve always hated my family! I’m finally free of them forever now! Hurray!

I really wish there were more Grief resources out there specifically designed for people who were extremely relieved when their first parent died and now go around telling people their other, still living parent is also dead, simply because it’s easier to explain. People get judgy when you say you cut off your family because they are abusive, but they completely stop talking when you say they are dead. Silence is golden!

Oh, I feel so much better after saying that. Such a cathartic release! That yin yoga session I did on the rooftop yesterday really did make me feel so much better. I also haven’t thought about The Russian at all since, so it was extra good. Instead I decided to put on “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?” By Rod Stewart and pretend my Irish Family was there dancing around the room with me. Much happier memory, I think.

Life Lesson: When in doubt, channel the Irish Fam. Works every time!

What should I do today? More yoga? I think it would be nice. Find somewhere new to sit and people-watch? Write? Make new CVs on Canva? Apply for jobs? Watch Netflix? Climb The Peak? Clean my apartment, which I still haven’t done because I’ve been living in an isolated bubble of depression and loneliness?

No idea. I will figure it out later. I think more yoga is a good solution for today. I can really get into Yin now that it’s not destroying me emotionally. Before, I would do it and just break down for like 3 hours afterward. Yesterday I did a Yin sesh and I felt really calm and relaxed afterward. I went to the little health food shop down the street, got a fancy juice, got a wrap/fry/brownie combo, took a shower, did a face mask, and just relaxed. Let it all go.

It took YEARS for me to be able to do that. That’s new. That’s a brand new experience for me, and I’ve been doing yoga for like 12 years at this point. Wild. This is why I don’t concern myself with fancy tricks like Handstands and Side Crows. It’s not about the performance for me. It’s about finding peace with the universe and unifying my body, mind, and spirit. It’s about fixing myself after decades of compounding trauma broke me apart.

Handstand? Pshh! Who gives a fuck about your stupid little handstand? Any idiot off the street can do a handstand. It’s just a little parlour trick. The question is… can you actually do YOGA?

Off now. I need to get out into the world. I live in fricken Hong Kong! What am I doing with my life? UGH!

This is what happens when you hold your children hostage until their mid-30’s and never let them make their own choices. If I ever have children, I will never do this to them. No shrinks, no “therapy” for issues your parents are projecting onto you instead of getting help for themselves, no pharmaceutical drugs, no shitty schools, no “Troubled Teen Industry,” no living in isolation in the middle of fucking nowhere far away from any real opportunities, no forcing them into doing things they don’t want to do (especially as adults) or being people they don’t want to be, and no screaming meltdowns.

And probably no screens, either. No iPads for you, child. That shit will destroy your brain before you have a chance to use it. Books, pencils, pens, and paper only. You’ll speak three languages by the time you’re 7 and surpass all of your idiot peers in school who are still going to be drooling over their phones, staring off into space, and totally and completely incapable of face-to-face human interaction when they’re adults.

If there’s one thing that brings me peace in this life, it’s that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would make a good wife and mother. But I don’t have to do that shit anymore because I am a free woman living in the 21st century and I can do whatever the fuck I want! It’s these guys that are missing out, not me! I’m not worried about it. It’s always been my dream to be carried around on a golden throne and fanned with giant palm leaves by hot beefcakes dressed in loincloths. Now I’m basically doing that. It’s grand.

Off now. Have a lovely day!

BLOG: Immigrant Life

Posted on Posted in BlogTagged , , , Leave a comment

Monday. Here we are, back at the cafe. The barista said I was late today and asked me if I’m hungover after partying over the holiday weekend. Unfortunately, I am not hungover, but I think I would prefer to be over what I was actually doing this morning that caused me to be late: paperwork.

Sometimes people will find out I’m American and ask me what my opinion is about immigration. My opinion is that I immigrated to another country so I could get the hell away from America. It is what it is.

There’s a lot of paperwork involved. It sucks, but it’s worth it. At least, I hope it will be. What I’ve learned from all of this is that if I ever get married, I need to find someone who knows how to do the paperwork and isn’t afraid to tackle it all head-on. If he can’t do the paperwork, he’s not the one for me.

Speaking of potential husbands… there’s a hot GAA player at 10:00 with a Celtic tribal armband tattoo. Hardcore. Very Braveheart. Love it. I really get the vibe this guy is going to sweep me up in his big strong arms and rescue me from the English.

Excuse me, sir? Can I potentially schedule a time with you later to watch you take your shirt off? Grand. I just want to see any other Celtic-inspired tattoos you have that perhaps cannot be seen. You know, for academic research purposes only, of course.

Amazing how I have the confidence to charm the pants off a random beefcake, but not the confidence to properly take on the job market. Two completely different beasts.

Picking up men is generally pretty easy. I don’t actually have to try. These guys are all coming to me. Getting a job, on the other hand, is generally much harder. I suppose the solution is the same either way: develop the deluded level of confidence exclusively possessed by mediocre white guys and go after what you want.

Easier said than done.

Okay, Betsey, just pretend the job market is some random hot guy in a bar with a sexy accent and just go for it!

Do we need another hike to the top of the Peak? I think we need another hike to the top of the Peak. Get that motivation level up. Come on, Betsey. You can do it. You got this far. You’ve already metaphorically made it to The Tower. Old Peak Road is behind you now. This is the part where you get to cruise around in a circle on flat ground for an hour. Enjoy it! Don’t stress. Just make it happen.

No pressure or anything, of course.

My problem is my own perception of my worth and capabilities. Obviously I am a very intelligent, confident person. I mean, Jesus, how many people have you actually met in your life who just woke up one day and moved to Hong Kong? Not many, I imagine. Yet, here I am. I did it and I’m here. That’s pretty fucking impressive.

That should be enough on its own, but it’s not. Probably because my family acts like I’ve committed a crime against humanity by doing what I’ve always said I wanted to do for as long as I can remember: move to the opposite side of the planet to get as far away from them as humanly possible. It’s hard to recognize your own success and be proud of yourself when everyone in your life actively punishes you every time you do anything in alignment with your true self.

Anyway, forget them. This is Hong Kong. Everyone here lives to serve the Highly Controlled Family System. How many Asian people do you know who get to live their lives the way they actually want to, especially if they are immigrants in the US? Not many. The choices are: doctor, lawyer, accountant, engineer, CEO. That’s it. You get to pick one. You don’t get to be a writer or actor or comedian unless you’re really, really, really lucky. I am not alone in my struggle. In fact, I am just one of many BILLIONS who struggles with their desire to please their very traditional family and their desire to live a life true to themselves.

It is what it is.

I am not alone!

So get over and quit whining and get back to that job hunt.

Right, got it.

No more whining.

The next time I start whining, my Irish ancestors are going to send the faeries to kidnap me in the Dream Realm and force me to spend the whole night slaving away down by the docks. Here’s your reality check, Betsey. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Ugh.

I suppose if I had to choose one of those options, it would be lawyer. I would make a pretty good lawyer. I’m very good at arguing. Plus, genetics. My dad is the one who actually steered me away from law school in favor of being a penniless, perpetually unemployed writer who never leaves home. Thanks for nothing, dad. It’s very clear in hindsight that you all conspired to ruin my life so you would always a have a free, live-in helper to clean your house and take care of your other kids and pets. Awesome. Thanks again! This has served me so well in life.

Honestly, I think he was just a narcissist who could not understand his family outside of his personal utility. He was the main character and we all just exist to serve his needs. It doesn’t matter what the rest of us want or need. We are just little dolls to be trotted out in public and propped up as accessories whenever need be. Just smile for the photo and pretend everything is perfect even though you’re dying inside. Let’s just say I relate a little too well to Kate Winslet trying to jump off the ship at the beginning of Titanic.

Sometimes I ask myself: Am I actually a real writer, or am I only doing this because it was my only option after my parents decided to lock me up in the house forever and never allow me to leave? It’s not like I’ve ever had the opportunity to explore any other options. Everything was always chosen for me. No wonder I have no idea who the fuck I am at age 37.

Well, I suppose I have to be a real writer now. I’ve come this far. Can’t just abandon it now. Plus, I don’t think I could stop if I tried. I had the worst writer’s block during the pandemic and it was literally PAINFUL. It was PAINFUL! It hurt so much inside to stare at that blank page for hours, tortured by the lack of inspiration, forced into resurrecting Andrew over and over again because I had no other material to work with.

It’s soooooo much easier to write every day now that I live in Asia. Every day I wake up and write. Just like that. Endless material. Something new and different every day. So many amazing, unique characters. I love my characters. I love all of the people I’ve met over here, even the people I don’t actually like. I love writing, they inspire to write simply by existing as themselves, therefore I love them.

I think I’ll be okay. I’ve done my ancestry research. I come from a long line of people who were brave enough to leave the only world they knew behind to get on a boat and sail off into the sunset in search of better opportunities. If all of them can do it, so can I.

So can I…

BLOG: Reality vs Faerie Land

Posted on Posted in BlogTagged , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Friday.

How am I today? Oh, I just feel like I’m drowning, as per usual. I try to always remember what my favourite little group of expats in Thailand would say: “The first year away is always the hardest. You’re still caught up in all the shit you left behind. You still don’t know who you are or where you are or what you’re even doing. But rest assured, you’ll find your way around in time, just like the rest of us did.”

I don’t feel like I’m finding my way. I feel like I’m way in over my head and I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into.

This week I have definitely felt the weight of my old life weighing upon me. I don’t know why I am getting so triggered by everything this week. I just keep having flashbacks and night terrors about the situations and people I left behind. I’m just not on my A-game right now.

I should be more excited than I am. Unfortunately, I can only think of how upset and angry my family will be, and wonder how they will conspire to sabotage it, and how I am going to manifest the money I need to chase this relatively new dream.

I feel very conflicted right now. I’ve struggled so hard to find a place in Hong Kong just to live and now I’m just going to give it up so I can run off somewhere new and take the exact same gamble on housing and employment to pursue a degree that I have no real way to pay for?

Well, I guess the way I’ve seen it, there is no pay off in this world anymore. You just have to do what you have to do to survive.

It’s just hard. I feel like every day I’m just sitting there like, “I know there is more to life than sitting on rooftops sipping wine and writing about all of the ridiculous people I randomly meet. I just don’t know how to switch out of this mode into money-making mode. My only real skill other than writing and creative, critical thinking is making drinks. What am I doing here? What am I doing anywhere? Everywhere I go, it will always be the same.”

If only I could wrangle me one of these hot fintech bros that keep walking by and then I would never have to worry about money ever again. I could just have a nice apartment with a roof of my own located somewhere within and just write. Alas, they look good on the outside, but the reality is they are all just one ketamine-fueled crash out away from ending up on the street.

Oh yeah, that reminds me. I had to stop checking out Neighbor Guy after I saw some chick carrying a bag of takeout go into his apartment the other day. She had a key. So now I’ve just started avoiding him by taking the stairwells again. Always the same story with these guys, isn’t it? I really must see that witch under the bridge about breaking whatever curse this is.

Well, I’ve checked on flight prices and they’re not great. If I want to fly to the US and then to Dublin, it’s like $1500-$2000 and I have to deal with ALL of the insanity. Upside: 12 hour layover in Tokyo, which I’ve never been to.

Meanwhile, good guy Ireland is keeping flight prices to Dublin from SEA very low. I’m looking at $500-$800 there, depending on which hub I go through.

Istanbul is probably best. They probably just fly over Mainland China and then up through the Stans. Skip the GCC entirely. That’s a hell of a flight though. And I don’t get the luxuries of Emirates or Qatar Airways for the long-haul. Disappointing.

I just don’t know what else to do. I’m not getting anywhere with my job hunt. AI just eats my applications. Besides, I have terrible luck with jobs. I always end up working for and with the worst people. Starbucks is the brightest, shiniest example. I will never forget how my co-workers treated me after my father died. Pure human garbage, the whole lot of them. I am convinced that most of Gen-Z is dysfunctional and rotten to the core.

So now I am trying to work through my actual, literal fear of going back to work after what happened with Starbucks and with the South African company that brought me to HK in the first place. I really have terrible anxiety about working with other people now. I’m just afraid I will be targeted and vilified for defending myself and then I have to sit back and watch as my source of income and health insurance is ripped away, yet again, just so someone else can make some kind of temporary gains.

So I do realize that people in the corporate world only get increasingly more psychotic from here. The world we live in is a terrible place. I just don’t want to be around monstrous people like that anymore. Like I literally just cannot do it. I have no tolerance for it anymore. It’s so much easier to just hide in my room and sleep and pretend the world doesn’t exist outside of my blog or my notebook.

I know it’s a problem. I just don’t know how to solve it. I only know that I’m out here all on my own and that I am the only person who can solve it. I’m just… not solving it. I don’t think I want to solve it. I think I just want to hop that flight to Ireland and run away to a magical fairy land where I can write in a castle overlooking the sea.

Yes, right, that sounds very realistic, Betsey. Let us all know how that goes for you when you find yourself broke and homeless and left alone out on the street in the rain.

I swear to you, my fear of being homeless is seriously the only thing motivating me at times. I refuse to live in a tent or sleep on a bench. But I am also an Artiste and I live to create and I don’t know how else to live aside from Creation.

And no one likes me. I suck at networking and socializing. Everyone always ends up hating me. I’m definitely going to die alone on the street in the rain.

Oh god, I think I might have an anxiety attack. God help me.

I’m sure it would probably help a lot if I just went for a walk and ate something aside from 7/11 snacks and ramen noodles.

🙁 🙁 🙁

BLOG: To Ireland!

Posted on Posted in BlogTagged , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Thursday. Here we are at the coffee shop. I am finally sitting inside today. We agreed it was better in case that crazy Aussie guy comes back.

I received some very exciting news yesterday: I was accepted into the Irish Studies program in Galway this summer. Yes, yes, I know, it’s very exciting, but this is only Part 1. I still have another application out for a full-year program I am completing right now. The real celebration will come if and when I finally get my Letter to Hogwarts!

The summer program is only for a month. That’s not going to be enough time for me. I need at least a full year. I decided to start researching Masters programs again and found some good options. I’ve realized that I just want to get it done already. I feel like I’m not going to be able to get ahead in my career until I get my Masters Degree. I’ve always wanted one, I just… had some rejections and a few opportunities that didn’t quite work out.

Maybe this one will work out since I’m already in! That’s what I’m hoping for. Then I can magically find a place to live (which I hear is very hard in Ireland right now) and not move anywhere again for a full year, or longer. I’ll just study and work in a coffee shop and learn Irish and write.

I can always come back to Hong Kong to if I want to. The door is now open to me forever because I’ve already lived here. I’m in da Club. I can come back any time. Ideally, next time I would like to be more prepared on a professional level. It’s really hard to get started here on my own. I just feel so lost all the time. School is a better option. I need the structure.

All of this being said, I am excited to go to Ireland. I’m gonna take courses on Irish History, Irish Society, and Irish Language. I’m excited to add another language to my ever-growing repertoire. Hopefully I’ll be much better at it than I am at Thai or Cantonese. Lol, I know, I know. Hey, I know the basics of getting around town! It’s not that bad! But I could also be trying harder, lol. Personally, I think I’m better at Hindi than both of those combined, but I was also in a relationship with an Indian man for a year, so…

Right now I’m trying to find a good spot to write my application essays in. This coffee shop is too loud. The library is too intense. The rooftop I was chillin’ on is too casual. My home studio works okay, but I do get a bit claustrophobic if I stay in there for too long. I can’t imagine trying to live here during Covid. I can’t even last 12 hours in there before popping over to 7/11. I would have lost my goddamn mind.

I’ve been doing some research on living in Ireland. It looks like it has the exact same problems literally everywhere else in the world does: high cost of living, housing shortage, stagnant low wages. Grand.

I have started looking at the housing situation. It’s definitely bad, but it’s not Hong Kong bad. Once you deal with the harsh, unforgivable realities of the Hong Kong housing market, everything else looks like a piece of cake in comparison.

Well, I’m dealing with the exact same issue here in Hong Kong, as I was before in the USA. It is what it is. It’s really about what I make of the opportunity in the end. If all else fails, I can always give up on life and go waste away in Thailand forever, lol.

There is no winning anywhere in this world right now. Everyone everywhere is drowning. There is no hope for the future. Might as well try to learn about my family heritage while I’m on my way out, I guess. It’s what my grandmother and father would want.

I always felt like I tried so hard to make something out of living in South Dakota. I traveled, I learn about Native American history and culture, I started this blog, I wrote so many stories, I followed around Mad Dog, took a lot of classes online, became a yoga teacher. In the end, it just wasn’t the right place for me. The people there are so, so, so toxic. I am grateful every day I left that world behind forever. I never, ever have to go back there ever again.

Ugh, I am feeling overwhelmed right now. I need to take a break. I am trying to do research online but everyone is SO NEGATIVE ALL THE TIME. The housing market sucks. The job market sucks. Everything sucks everywhere.

Like, yes, we know, the world sucks. Everything sucks. It is what it is!

Well, it’s fine. My ancestors survived crossing the ocean to come to America just to be treated like shit and discriminated against and denied jobs and housing. Somehow they still made it work. I’m sure I can survive one year in a dilapidated Irish boarding house by the seaside in Ireland proper.

I’ve got it pretty good compared to my ancestors, so, whatever. At least I don’t have to work down by the docks or toil away in the factories or camp out in the woods for weeks at a time to avoid getting caught by the feds for illegal rum-running between the US and Canada during prohibition. That’s a true story, btw!

Maybe I’ll just find myself one of these big strapping Irish lads with lots of property he inherited from his grandmother and make him some tea and then cozy up by him next to the fire place on a rainy, windy, foggy day after the car breaks down in the mud and he comes home drenched from head to toe and shivering cold. Then I will enchant him by whispering the magic words every Irishman wants to hear directly into his ear: “I know the recipe for my great-great-grandmother’s traditional Irish stew.”

It’ll be just like in the movies! 😀

Yeah, that doesn’t sound so bad to me…

Housing crisis, schmousing crisis. Reality cannot interfere with my romcom fantasy dream life!

Except for when it inevitably does…

Whatever, don’t interrupt me while I’m fantasizing! I have an award-winning romance series to pen. Everyone loves hot Irish guys in cozy sweaters, okay?! These are just facts!

Alright, well, I am going to quit reading all of this negativity on reddit and finish my essays. It goes…

161 years ago, my family looked around the famine-ridden nation of Ireland and said, “Fuck this shit, we’re going to America!”

Now, six generations later, their totally disillusioned American descendant is getting right back on that boat and saying, “Fuck this shit, I’m going back to Ireland!”

*sings*

It’s the circleeeeeeee, the circle of liiiiiife!

*ba dum*

BLOG: I Am Not A Spy!

Posted on Posted in BlogTagged , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Sunday?

I think?

The days are different here. Hong Kong hours are like… normal hours here, plus London Time, plus New York City time, plus Chicago time, plus San Francisco time. It’s like every day here is really the equivalent of a day and a half.

I was feeling this but I did not really recognize it for what it was until New Year’s Eve. Okay, we celebrated, I went to sleep, I woke up and everyone in the US is just celebrating now, in the middle of the afternoon the next day.

I noticed my sleep schedule had shifted to accommodate the time difference. I am used to waking up at sunrise, doing yoga, getting a coffee, and keeping my whole strict writing routine. I was not feeling very good about myself for staying up all night, sleeping all morning, and then waking up around noon. Now I see what is actually happening here.

It’s a good thing I am adjusting well, because the nightlife here is so real. After I went to the Irish Pub, I came back and got off at Central. It’s not the closest stop to my apartment, but I always get on and off there so I can get my steps in. Plus I love to wander around Central and see what’s happening.

I got a little lost last night and accidentally wandered into a neighborhood known as “LKF.” I heard it was Lit AF, but I had never been there before. Well, I think I wandered down there once during the day, but everything was closed so the vibe was super weird.

Nighttime, however? Wow! It is POPPIN’! So many bars, clubs, and late-night restaurants. People were out in the streets, drinking, talking, dancing, having a great time. It was like New Orleans, especially because you can just drink alcohol openly on the street here. I made a note to myself to come back and people-watch later.

I saw a great singer-piananist duo busking on the street. They were beautiful! The singer’s voice just stopped me dead in my tracks. I stayed for a couple songs, tossed them a HKD$50 (~USD$6.50) and carried on my way.

By the end of my walk, my once-cozy sweater had become a prison. I was sweating like crazy. Dressing for the weather here is harder than in SD. At least there, you already know to wear 7 layers, plus your fur-lined boots and buffalo-skin robe. Here it’s like… yes, it’s a bit chilly out tonight, much more so than usual, so you need a sweater and a scarf and fleece-lined leggings underneath, but you’re going to be walking uphill both ways and standing on the MTR where it’s crowded, so eventually you will get hot and start sweating until you’re practically drenched.

Shoutout to the chick I saw on the metro who was straight-up dressed like a Dragon Pokémon. Fuzzy onesie with fins down the back and a tail dragging behind, elaborate silver wig with a homemade headpiece, just standing there chillin’, not giving a single fuck.

I love that about Hong Kong. The outfits people wear are just crazy to me. There’s the business casual look, then there’s the comfy-cozy look, then there are the people who just walk around dressed like cats and Pokémon as their “every day look.” Like, the cat thing is so real. People just wear cat-ear headbands and tails with a whole fuzzy outfit and no one gives a fuck. Not a single fuck! I always used to get made fun of in school for doing that. Turns out, I was just ahead of my time.

Eventually I found my way back home and decided to hit up my fav neighborhood LGBTQIA+ club. I could say “gay club” but that just doesn’t feel inclusive enough these days. I’d rather spell out the whole alphabet soup specifically to raise awareness.

I went there for the third time and they definitely remembered me. The bartender was like, “I see you in here all the time.” I was like, “Yeah I feel very safe here.” They smiled at me and I smiled back and I felt happy and safe again. I went out on the floor and danced a bit, then somehow ended up chatting with an Indian-Irish couple.

They met in the US and considered themselves “American,” as do I. The Irish one was from Northern Ireland. He strongly encouraged me to visit Ireland, but he said he would not go back there himself for various reasons. After watching that documentary about modern-day Belfast, I completely understand why.

At first, I was a little annoyed to be conversing with anyone at all, since I don’t go there to “work.” Work for me is interviewing people and collecting crazy stories. I just go there to dance. However, I was apparently not as off-duty as I would have liked to be, so I ended up talking to quite a few people and collecting many stories.

Anyway, I was chatting with them for quite some time. Like, until “bar close.” That was when they invited me upstairs to the “after party,” which is apparently invite-only. I had so many people ask me how I managed to get invited up there. Honestly, I have no idea. I just am who I am, I guess?

Anyway, I met a guy who works for CNN and told him I’m looking for a job as a journalist. He was the first South African I’ve met here who wasn’t a fucking dickhead. He clocked me right away. I hope we can stay in touch because he was super chill.

I totally forgot about CNN, to be honest. The whole “Fake News” propaganda has totally destroyed the domestic branch, but apparently it still has a significant stronghold internationally. That’s… good news, actually. I didn’t even think of that!

I had to laugh because the running joke everyone was making was, “Oh you’re from Washington, D.C.? You must be a spy!”

I was like, first of all, a real spy would never say they are from D.C. They would be like, “I’m just a small town girl from South Dakota out in the big, bad world for the very first time. I don’t know anything about anything, tee hee! Does anyone know where I can get a Bud Light with tomato juice and olives?”

It’s not like James Bond where he’s going around telling everyone his full name and making his presence known to every person he meets. The older I get, the more I’m like, bro, what are you doing? Stop telling everyone who you are! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. These fuckin’ Brits, right? Ugh!

Second, why the fuck does everyone I meet abroad think I am a spy? I’m not a spy! I mean, I could be, maybe. I have the skillset required for the job. But really, I’d rather just be a journalist, and it turns out those skillsets significantly overlap. I could also be a diplomat, because somehow I keep getting roped into these crazy situations where I have to sort out crazy situations between two aggressive parties. But honestly? I’m so tired of having to answer for the actions of the fucking Dump Truck. Ugh! OVER IT!

Nobody likes him over here. Nobody except the crazy white South Africans I met at the start of my journey, who I ditched very shortly after. Ugh! I am grateful to escape the MAGA cult, but I can’t tell anyone I’m American without having to answer ALL the questions.T

he main one being: “How the fuck did this asshole get elected?” Well, his supporters are basically a full-on cult and he’s a criminal who straight-up stole the election with the help of Elon Musk. You really think he won fair and square? NO! Of course not! He’s a literal fucking criminal! He breaks the law! That’s what he does! I know it, you know it, everybody knows it! Why are we all sitting around treating this like it’s some dumb reality TV show? This man should be in jail! Jail! JAIL! Straight to jail!!!!

I also hear a lot of complaints about the tariffs. The tariffs are screwing everybody over, especially the F&B industry. Good luck finding American beer! The closest you’ll get is Budweiser. Heavy only, of course. They don’t even have Bud Light! Fair, honestly. It’s mostly just water anyway.

California wine? Yeah, between the wildfires and the tariffs, that whole industry has been totally decimated.

Real Kentucky bourbon? Forgeddaboutit! The only “bourbon” I can find is a leftover bottle of Jim Beam someone fished out of the last box in their basement. We ALL know that’s bottom shelf basic shit at its worst!

It’s absurd.

Anyway, I’ve had enough of writing today. I got it all out of my system for today. Time to go shower all the sweat from last night off me so I can go meet my friend to pick up Five Guys. The burger joint, I mean. Gotta give the 703 some love! Haha, it is truly hilarious to see to me how much it’s grown. I still remember going to the original one on Route 7 in that grungy little strip mall with no parking whatsoever. Wild. Is this a psy-op? Maybe!

JK, we all know McDonald’s is the original psy-op. Still a fan of the Cajun McCrispy with Pineapple on top anyway. That shit slaps!

Okay, okay, I’m off now for real.

This has been Betsey Horton, reporting to you live from Hong Kong.

Just kidding, of course. We all know my real name. It’s Bond… James Bond.

Hahahahaha!