Tag: Writing

BLOG: And That’s How I Became A REAL Writer…

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Friday.

It is 9/11 today. That means no internet for me today. Speaking as a person who grew up in the DC area, that day was horrible. I do not care to relive it. I do not care to listen to people spew out conspiracy theories about it. I especially do not care to re-watch any of the footage from that day. Horrible. Just horrible.

Moving on…

When did I last post? Wednesday? Hmmm… what has happened since then?

Wednesday night I went to the Cantina to visit a friend who just returned from several months abroad. I was so happy to see her. We chatted and caught up. I told her everything that had happened with my neighbor in the last few months. She just laughed at me and said, “You two fight the way old married couples do. You know that, right?”

My other friend started cackling. “I know, right?” she exclaimed. “That’s exactly what I said! We need to stage an intervention to get them back together so this movie has a happy ending.”

“Ha ha, very funny. How can you reunite us if we were never together? He’s made it clear he hates me and wants nothing to do with me. I’m just the freak who stole his sweatpants in a misguided attempt at revenge.”

My friend called me out immediately. “You’re so full of shit! You took them because you miss him.”

“There’s nothing going on! We had a few conversations in the roof, after which he randomly decided to start picking these weird, random fights with me. He just freaked out because he didn’t realize I was going to fight back, which is ridiculous because it’s clear to anyone with eyes that I have an anger problem.”

The two of them just laughed and laughed. We hung around for a bit longer, then my friends went their way and I went mine.

On my way home, I stumbled upon the infamous SoHo Queen. Naturally, she wanted me to join her for a drink. One drink turned into many. Before I knew it, I was frat house wasted. I have no idea how this lady does it. She could drink an Irish sailor under the table. It’s actually insane.

I told her I have to go to Macau next week. She wants to come with me. Like, I love her, but there is no way I can ever go to a Macanese casino with her. It’s going to turn into The Hangover sequel no one asked for.

Eventually I stumbled home, where I promptly passed out in my street clothes. Big no no here in Asia. You have your outside clothes and your home clothes, just like you have your outside shoes and your inside shoes. That’s how drunk I was. I didn’t even bother to change into my neighbor’s sweatpants first.

Oh, speaking of my neighbor, I have a fun little story about him, but I’ll get to that later. Haha, it’s a good one.

Okay, back to my timeline.

I woke up several hours later a complete mess. I did not know what to do with myself. I swear to god, y’all. I’m holding it together with a single brain cell right now. I just reiterated to myself that I cannot go out drinking with the SoHo Queen and this is exactly why.

In spite of my hangover, I spent the next few hours working on my book. I managed to get something done. No idea how. There is definitely a reason why all of these famous authors went crazy and killed themselves. Locking oneself in a tiny room with their manuscript will drive you crazy after awhile.

Upon the realization that I was going to lose it if I stared at my fucking wall any longer, I decided to leave and take a walk. Naturally, my walk led me up to the Mid-Levels and straight into the Secret Society. I think I got there at like 4pm or something? Insane.

I told the bartender I was losing my shit and had to escape my apartment. We chatted for awhile. She asked me why I keep insisting everyone call me Liz instead of Betsey. I explained to her about my “Small Town Famous” past as a writer in South Dakota and what happened in Bangkok. I straight up said, “I was trying to hide my identity here because I’m afraid of going through that again. I really don’t like the attention as much as people think, especially because a lot of it is negative.”

She just shook her head at me. “I get it. I’m an artist too, but you can’t run away from it. You just have to be who you are. It’s okay. You’re in here for a reason. Remember that.”

That was the moment I suddenly remembered I had a question for her. I saw a picture of that writer I met up there a few weeks back on their instagram page, so I asked her if she knew who he was. She did, but she did not know his name either. I explained that he had given me a lot of writing advice but refused to tell me his name. He specifically said to me, “If you are a real writer, you’ll figure out who I am.”

Challenge Accepted!

We decided to make this my mission for the afternoon. She said, “There’s a guy who comes in here who always sits with him and reads his work. I think you’ve met him before, but I’ll make sure you’re introduced to him when he comes in later. Otherwise, just ask around when the regulars come in and see what you can find.”

I said, “I bet you any amount of money that (NAME REDACTED) and (NAME REDACTED) are going to know who he is. They know everyone here.”

She nodded and said, “You’re right. This is good. You’re learning.”

While we waited, we decided to ask AI if it could find him. We uploaded his picture to the AI and compiled a list of everything we knew about him. The AI gave us about 5 or 6 completely wrong answers before we completely gave up on it. AI is seriously the most useless shit I’ve ever encountered, and I have met a great deal of completely useless idiots in my life. What a waste of time!

While I waited around for our three most promising sources to arrive, I chatted with a few different people and made some new connections. Hashtag: Networking. I am getting much better about not sitting on my iPad when I am in there. As I said in my previous post, they expect me to socialize when I am there, not to sit in the corner and write. It’s hard for me because I am not naturally a socially gifted person, but I recognize the fact that it is a skill I can learn. So now I am learning!

When Source #1 showed up, I immediately asked him what he knew about our mysterious writer friend. He said he knew exactly who he was, but he also did not know his name! He asked around and we discovered very quickly that this man has apparently never told anyone in that room his name. Ridiculous.

The bartender and I were both annoyed by this. I said to her, “If he doesn’t know, I bet you any amount of money Source #2 will.” Luckily, right at that moment, Source #2 walked in. I walked right up to him and asked him if he knew who the writer was. He was like, “Oh, yes, of course I know him. Do you want a copy of his book?”

BAM!

Called it!

I went back to the bartender to report on my discovery. I said, “See, I told you he was going to know.” She just smiled at me.

“I guess that means you’re a real writer now.”

Yes, I am.

I admit it was fun to watch everyone in the room try to solve the mystery. It was like that scene in The Season where they’re all on the yacht and the party gets boring so they swipe a piece of jewelry from a guest and everyone plays the mystery game to figure out who the “thief” is. I thought that was fake, but no… they really do play games like that. Apparently, this was one of those games.

I see what you did there, sir. Mad respect.

This was when Source #3 appeared. The bartender introduced me to him and we chatted for a minute. He asked me if I had a card. I actually had multiple people ask me for my card last night. I used to have one, but I don’t anymore. I guess I need to design a new one and take it to the printing shop. Put that on my To Do list.

I just wrote down my info and gave him a barnap instead. I can’t say what his name is, but I can tell you that it’s a name that is well known in the publishing industry. I guess that’s why he’s always reading that writer’s manuscripts. I could be wrong, of course. I guess we’ll find out.

I went back over to Source #2 and started chatting with him again. I thought to myself, “If he knows everyone here, I wonder if he knows who my neighbor’s family is?”

I took out a picture of him and asked. Source #2 did not immediately recognize him, but he said, “He looks familiar, but I don’t know from where. You said he is English? What is his last name?”

I gave him the name and his eyes widened.

“Ohhhhhh. That is a very, very, very old English name. Very proper. I don’t know them personally, but I can tell you that he comes from money. Old money. Very old money.

“That’s exactly what I thought,” I said. “We aren’t speaking right now because I called him a spoiled, rich, overgrown party boy.”

He laughed at me and shook his head.

“He is,” he replied. “Someone else is paying for those boat parties. He’s probably trying to escape from his family and make his own way.”

“That’s exactly what I thought.”

“You’re the same. That’s why he’s angry with you. You can see through whatever act he’s putting on right now.”

I was surprised by how straightforward he was. It’s like… he knows him, but he’s doesn’t? Maybe he just recognizes “the type.” Personally, I know that type VERY well. I grew up around it. I can spot it from a mile away. I mean, I am that type. It’s not exactly a secret that I’m a spoiled little princess! How else would I be living in HK this long without a job? It’s not that hard to put 2 and 2 together on this one. The only real difference between us is that I’m a nerd who spends most of her time in the library, while he’s a jock running around outside in the field. It is what it is.

“He’s been avoiding me. I haven’t seen him in about a month and a half.”

“Are you sure he didn’t move out?”

“Yes.”

“He’s definitely avoiding you on purpose then.”

“That’s what I thought. I think he’s got a girl somewhere too.”

“Oh, he’s not serious about her. If he was, he wouldn’t be living there next door to you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just know.”

See? I know what I’m doing! I can read people! I need to learn to trust my instincts. Living in South Dakota fucked me up way more than people realize. I was treated so badly there. Everyone would call me crazy and make me doubt my sanity. Turns out I was right all along, and that’s why they all hated me so much.

I guess that means I’ve been right about my Andrew all along. I knew that fucker was contributing energy to his character. You can’t fool me, bro. I know exactly what that sneaky little fucking snake was up to all along. Somehow, I still love him anyway. That’s the last time I pay a witch under a bridge to curse someone. It didn’t fucking work!

It’s like… Really? All of that for a man who I stared at from across the room like five times? Ridiculous! Who the fuck do you think you are, Betsey? Sir Philip Sidney?!

That joke is funny AF, btw. If you don’t get it, you don’t get it.

ANYWAY, that aside, I guess we’re going to start calling my neighbor “Mr. Bridgerton” now. Hahahaha! That’s funny as fuck, actually. I guess that means I’ve gotta go stalk him on Lamma Island. That’s his “hangout spot.”

I told the bartender this and she was sooooo here for it! She lives there. She immediately wrote down the directions for me and gave me the name of “the good spot.” She was like, “I can’t wait to read about what you find over there.”

Oh god, I can’t even imagine. I can only assume the dress code is “All White Everythang.” I guess that means I have to go shopping now. Believe it or not, I don’t wear a lot of white clothing. I much prefer black. You know, like Johnny Cash.

Until we start to make a move to make a few things right, you’ll never see me wear a suit of white…

BLOG: Questions Answered

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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: The Weirdness Continues…

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Tuesday.

Recovering from my little adventure out at the Secret Society last night. That place is weird for sure. Let’s just say I’ve definitely discovered the next layer of weirdness lurking underneath the surface up there. Mid-Levels Madness, indeed.

Let it be recorded for posterity that I am making a definitive note that this place is WEIRD and OFF. There is something that is not right up there. Last night was only the latest example of the repeatedly occurring weirdness.

In the meantime, I agreed to go to another stand-up comedy thing tonight with an Irish friend I met about a month or two back. I don’t know why I agreed to it. I guess to push myself out of my comfort zone and fulfill things on my vision board. But now… I hardly feel up for it.

Also, I’m not sure, but I’m pretty sure I saw my neighbor out with his “mates” last night. I can’t be certain. It definitely looked like him. Whoever it may have been, he was definitely giving me a very strange look that I cannot describe. He was also holding a very small dog, which was actually pretty cute.

I’m probably imaging it. I’m sure he’s actually quite generic-looking for a white guy in Hong Kong. I just can’t tell right now because I’m currently under his Scorpion’s Spell.

I don’t know what this guy did to me, but it’s working.

Whatever. I’m sure it will pass. Three months ago I was mooning on about The Russian, and before that it was that Irish Guy, and before that it was other British Guy, aka that stupid bloody wanker I met in Thailand. Ugh.

It is what it is.

Something about these male Scorpions though. Hmmm… I like it.

Well, in my experience, the only way to get over this guy is to either get under another one or go full throttle on the Muse thing. Seeing as my previous attempt to get under that bartender from the Secret Society didn’t go well, I guess I have no choice but to turn up the Muse dial to level 14 on a 10-scale.

Well, that’s fine. I’ve been in the market for a new Muse. Anyone but Andrew! You know, a good Muse is hard to find. Do you realize I have already been through six in the last year? Mr. Next Door could be lucky number 7!

Okay, it’s official! The Six Nations is over! Welcome to the Hong Kong Sevens!

Hahaha!

See, this is already going so well! And hey, if it doesn’t work out, I guess that officially puts Andrew on the same level as Larry the Cat. Give the man some credit! He lasted 10 years as a Muse! These guys can’t even hack it for a couple of months. Like he literally is the Muse version of Larry the Cat. Good for him, I guess?

Also, it helps a lot that Mr. Next Door has completely vanished off the radar. He’s invisible now. Little does he know, this only makes it worse. Now there’s more space between us to fill in with ridiculous, made-up stories. I need a Muse to write side stories about while I focus on the main event. It’s a stress relief thing. I need something to focus on that will make me laugh while I cry through my dead daddy issues.

Yeah, I can see this working out well for me. Not sure how he’s gonna feel about it. If he’s anything like the rest of them, he will 100% hate it. I think he’s shown me he already does!

But, whatever. He’s the one who decided it was a good idea to get all up in my grill. Maybe he should have thought more about who he was talking to instead of saying dumb shit to me like, “All you do is get drunk and make out with random guys in elevators.”

Oh honey, I do so much more than that. Let me show you what I can really do! what if I wrote a story about making out with you in an elevator?!

Listen, what do you want from me? My friend described this man as “looking like one of the Avengers.” He’s so my type! That’s probably why I hate him so much! Is it really hate, or is it just a one-sided, completed unrequited, slow-burn enemies-to-lovers story in disguise?

I don’t know. Let’s just make some shit up and see what happens. He’s probably not used to starring as the lead in a Western romantic comedy. After all, he does describe himself as someone who “plays bad guys in Chinese movies.”

Welcome to Hollywood!

And just between us, this guy is WAY better looking than Andrew. Plus he’s got the accent. I’m big on the accent. The accent is really doing it for me. It’s the small details that count.

Honestly not sure if it was the accent or the ridiculous “Dad-chelor Party Destination Phuket” t-shirt with the sleeves cut off that flipped the switch for me. I am ashamed to admit that it might have been the t-shirt. It was probably the t-shirt.

Yeah, it was definitely the t-shirt…

Why? How? I don’t understand. It’s simultaneously the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever seen but also the hottest? What is that?

Yeah, I’m just gonna go for it. Let’s lean all the way in. Lean in so hard we fall over. Let’s burn through this obsession and see how many words/pages we get out of it.

Done and done. I guess we have to give him a fake name now. What should it be? What should it be???

BLOG: Get Me Off This Boat

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Monday.

Currently at the Secret Society. There is no one else here except for me and my casual bartender friend. It is what it is.

I spent most of the last week cooped up in my shoebox working on my book outline. I believe Thursday night is the night when I finally cracked and went completely insane. It happens! It was ugly. I don’t want to talk about it.

I decided to take my mind off of everything by going to see The Odyssey on Saturday. It was not my favourite adaptation. It was very testosterone-fueled. Just a lot of men and war and gritty Batman-style narration. The pacing was killer, especially for a three hour movie with no intermission. Let’s just say I was relieved when the journey finally came to an end. It left me drained and exhausted.

Overall, I prefer the Wishbone version. The End.

Otherwise, I spent the weekend a prisoner of my neighbor’s Muse. Weird. Needless to say, I was ready to get the fuck out of my house tonight. There might not be any old British bankers here to toy with, but at least I can clear my head and get some writing done. Who cares if I have to hike all the way up to the Mid-Levels to do it?

Is my head clear now? Somewhat. Sort of. It could be clearer. It could be clear enough to get my paperwork sorted out so I can achieve HKPR status. Instead I am just sitting here like… all over the place.

Let’s just say… life would be much easier if I could find someone to marry me, haha. Looking around this room right now… that seems… highly unlikely, lol.

Alas.

What else do I have to write about? Ugh, nothing. I am so focused on assembling this new book. I have no energy to collect new adventures, new accounts, new characters, etc. I’m just going to have a couple of glasses of wine and watch the escalator until it’s time to wander on back down the hill and head on home.

BLOG: Procrastination Station

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Wednesday. At home. Not feeling the best today. Yesterday was worse, but at least I was able to solve the mystery of this random obsession that has seemingly popped up overnight.

You see, being who I am, and having the set of life experiences I’ve had (especially recently), my new policy when it comes to my attractions to men is essentially to talk myself out of it every time it happens. Why? Because there’s no point in having feelings for men. They just lie, cheat, steal, drain your energy, and then disappear into the void. Pointless venture.

So clearly, I’ve spent the last few days trying to talk myself out of whatever this weird feeling is that I have developed for my neighbor. Here are my conclusions:

  1. This is clearly a proximity issue. This never would have happened if he didn’t live right next door to me. I never would have met him. I wouldn’t even know he existed. Our paths literally never would have crossed, like, ever. He has his own little local Island life that I will never be part of, and I have my own little expat life that he will never be part of. We don’t hang out in the same places. Based on the pictures I’ve seen, we would never hang out with the same people. I’m not sure if we even have that much in common, actually.
  2. This is just hormones making me crazy because that’s what they do. This is very apparent from the heightened sensitivity to all the smells he’s producing. Let me be clear: these are not bad smells. All of these are very good smells, and now they have all been magnified about 2000x, and that’s the part that drives me up the wall.
  3. This is basically just caveman shit, right? There’s not a lot of deeper thoughts going into whatever this is. I tried to explain this to my friend last night. I said, “I’m not sure what happened. I’ve been living here for 9 months. I was ignoring him for most of them. Then… I don’t know. I guess one day I came home and he was cooking himself dinner and I was like, ‘Okay, okay, I smell what The Rock is cooking!’ And then later he came outside in some ridiculous t-shirt with the sleeves cut off so I had a front row seat at the gun show and… apparently that was enough for me. I’ve been going crazy ever since.” That’s all it took, I guess. Definitely NOT deep at all.
  4. I like hot jerks. Who doesn’t, amiright? He’s definitely hot and he’s definitely been acting like a jerk. 100% sure it has nothing to do with me. I think he just has some stuff going on he’s not disclosing. As previously stated, this man is living proof that the literary trope of British men hiding ugly secrets in their attics is a real, actual thing, not fiction!
  5. He’s an actor. He’s easy to write about. The words… look at how they flow onto the page so naturally! I don’t even have to try! They are just there. Cannot resist the Muse Energy!
  6. Also, I think I might secretly be jealous of him??? Maybe??? Like, he lives here. His family lives here. He has friends and a community and he doesn’t have to worry about visa paperwork. He just gets to party it up and then travel all over the world to attend more parties. Yet, when I see him, he always looks miserable, or he’s in a bad mood, or he’s complaining, or he’s yelling at me. I think I’ve only seen him smile a handful of times. Mostly, it’s a scowl. I don’t get it. I wish I had a family that loved me, a community, a home. I don’t have any of that shit, and it’s not for lack of trying. So I guess I’m not really understanding what his issue is.
  7. He’s so judgmental of me! So now I feel like I have something to prove, which makes no sense to me at all. Why the fuck would I care about what some fancy Englishman dressed up in all white sitting all high on his hill looking down at me thinks about anything? The Colonial Era is over, bro! I don’t have to take this shit from you anymore! I’m American! Annoying! Yet somehow… it’s really doing it for me? Why? How? Something, something, Fireworks in the sky? Idk!
  8. This is an excuse to put off writing my book. He is just the latest stop on this trainwreck. Welcome to Procrastination Station! Have a set of Mardi Gras beads for your trouble, y’all. Then again, writing something is better than nothing!

So as you can see, I have effectively talked myself out of this situation, which is why I’ve just written close to 800 words about him in one go.

Meh. Only 800 words? That’s nothing! You should see Andrew’s bookS (there are two). Talk about writing about people I don’t like IRL!

Still can’t figure out what happened there. It will forever remain a mystery; hopefully one that will stay buried under the sands of time, especially now that I’ve paid $50 HKD to a witch under a bridge to “curse” him. Not gonna lie, pretty sure he would love that. That’s just how his character was.

ANYWAY WE ARE NOT WRITING ABOUT ANDREW ANYMORE! NO ANDREW ALLOWED! He’s been banned for life from my books. He’s definitely not in the latest one. No Andrew, no Bloody Mary’s, no Mad Dog. In my mind, I left them behind at the bar in the town. I already told that story. They’re not part of the specific story I’m trying to tell now.

You know who did end up in the book? Levi Gene!

LE GASP!

He’s not a major character. He makes like three appearances in the beginning in order to assist me with blowing up my life and then I go on a journey across the world. Good for him. Hopefully he’ll read it and finally send me that gift basket he owes me for helping him get divorced. That would have been the classy thing to do, bro. I know it, you know it, everybody knows it. It is what it is.

I’m definitely putting off writing this book right now. Ugh. Okay, I need to go make a sincere effort to be productive now instead of obsessing over Mr. Next Door, who is literally hiding from me right now. He’s pulled a complete disappearing act in the last week and a half. I wish I could say this improved the situation for me, but it didn’t, because now all I’m left with is the smells, lol. Somehow… that’s WORSE!

Okay, off for real. Farewell!

BLOG: It’s Possible!

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Friday.

Rainy day. Woke up to the sound of thunder, dark skies, and an endless downpour. Welcome to Hong Kong.

Now I am sitting in bed in my coziest sweatpants, drinking coffee and writing. Perfect life right here. I am so very grateful for this moment.

Made lots of progress on the book this week. I mostly spent my time tweaking the outline. My biggest piece of feedback from my last two projects was “lack of structure” so this time I am starting with a very nice, neatly-polished outline, inspired by the legendary bamboo scaffolding here in Hong Kong.

So now I have the outline and a document full of three years’ worth of blog posts to squeeze into said outline. Right now it looks like Year 1 takes up one chapter, Year 2 takes up 2-3 chapters, and the rest of it is all Year 3. I’m starting with a goal of 300-350 pages, which is much more manageable than the 1600+ pages of Franken-Blog prose.

I spent some time researching local publishers as well. I have some very promising leads. I am finally starting to feel like this is a real thing. I’ve got a book manuscript draft, I’ve got leads on publishers, I’ve got an audience waiting in the wings, I have a marketing plan. I can totally do this! I can finally make my lifelong dream come true!

It was all worth it in the end!

*takes deep sigh of relief*

I’m so relieved, lol.

It’s like my fairy godmother just appeared in front of me and started singing “It’s Possible” from Cinderella. Happy. 🙂

Meanwhile, no updates on The Boy Next Door. I guess he’s just decided to disappear into the void. Alas. Clearly he is not looking for a side-gig as a Writer’s Muse. Too bad. But, to be fair, it doesn’t pay very much, so I can see his point of view.

In the end, I decided to take some of his advice after all. He is right about some of it, and he knows better than I do because he is local. It is not entirely a waste…

Otherwise, I went up to the Secret Society again on Wednesday evening. Drank far too much, as per usual. Somehow ended up hanging out with the Finance Bros. How? This, to me, is probably one the stranger things that I’ve encountered on my journey. I consider myself to be an artist and an entertainer. How did this happen?

I don’t know, probably because… when I look at them, I see a bunch of uptight old men. When they look at me, they see a young, beautiful woman who puts on her little show and makes them laugh. It’s not that deep.

I have resolved to wait at least another week before I return there. I’m trying not to go too often. Once a week is enough. I must direct my attention elsewhere to other potential social ventures.

I did find the names of some organizations I can join here that will be beneficial career-wise. As we all know, I don’t really have a career, so anything will help. I’m just a person who has tried a lot of jobs that weren’t right for them and wants to find something more in-line with their character.

I have no solution for that problem, as of now, but I do have the potential to get this book finished and published. I shall focus on that.

Off for now. Let’s see how productive this day can be…

BLOG: Working Away…

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Thursday. Here we are, waiting on our lunchtime carry out.

I have not written in a week. I also have not left the house much. The reason is because I have been busy assembling the first draft of my new book. It’s as finished as it can be. It’s all of the blog posts from the last 3 years assembled into one document. It goes up until the most recent post. So now that’s done.

The next step was to make an outline of the story I’m actually trying to tell. Got that done. Hung it up on the wall. Charted everything out for the plot. Made the list of characters. Made the list of chapters/stories. Everything is set up and ready to go for the next three rounds of edits.

The first step is obviously to cut out 1000 pages. The next step is to rewrite everything so it flows better. Then edit, rewrite, edit, rewrite, so on and so forth until complete. The important thing is that I am officially engaged in the process.

What else have I accomplished? Well, let’s say I’ve used the empty white space on my wall to my full advantage. One section is for all of the book plans. The next section is all of the planning for the “influencer business.” The next section is for the blog and portfolio. The last section is for my CV and job hunt. That’s an entirely different beast on its own.

All in all, everything looks good. As I said, I have not been going out in favor of staring at my wall and working on manifesting my various goals and visions. Everything in time, everything in time…

That is all I have to say for now. Just trying to keep a steady routine, avoid going out, and work on finishing my book. Not exactly a junk boat party. I suppose that part comes later, after I have accomplished all of my serious tasks…

BLOG: The New Rules of Engagement

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Tuesday.

The morning started out rough. I had a nightmare, which is normal at this point, but still extremely triggering. Got upset. Left the apartment as soon as possible to come to the coffee shop and write.

Writing is the only thing that keeps me sane in this world. Writing and yoga, but only as long as I’m doing yoga by myself. I get stressed out if I have to be around other Yogis. Most of them are just… yikes on bikes. Not exactly a community I’m proud to be part of at this point. It’s a lot of “Being totally and completely selfish is the only way to be happy! You don’t owe anyone anything!”

Uhh… except for the part where that statement literally goes against the spiritual dharma of yoga. Like, actually, you do owe your community and the planet something, you fucking asshole. But sure, go off about how filming a handstand for IG helped you find your center, or whatever. Really doing yoga there.

I really did not like the people I met in Bali, lol. Can you tell?

I hate how negative people who say negative things to me stay stuck in my brain. Like, why the fuck do I care what people with no empathy think of me? They have no empathy! They’re horrible to everyone! That’s what people like that do. Why do I let it affect me?

New rule: anyone who makes me feel bad is not allowed in my space or my life. If someone comes at me and tries to lecture me out of “concern” or whatever, they’re getting blocked immediately.

Did I ask for your advice? No. So why are you talking at me like I give a fuck? Do you really think what you’re saying right now is relevant? It’s not, and I’m tired of pretending it is.

Let us take a moment of peace to be calm and enjoy our coffee.

Breathe it in real deep on this rainy, miserable day. We have a long day ahead of us.

So much for my “Week of No Regrets.” I already regret wasting my Sunday with that person. Their negativity is sticking to me now and I can’t shake it. I need to go out on a fun adventure or something. Too bad it’s raining. Alas.

Okay, new rules for socializing:

-If the person speaking is under the age of 30, don’t listen to anything they have to say. They have not passed The Age of Wisdom yet. I am 37. I am closer to 40 than 20 at this point. That age gap is real AF and I’m tired of pretending it’s not. Plus, Gen-Zs are fucking weird. Over it. Done. Under 30’s are not friend material. Period. Old people FTW. They have knowledge, expertise, wisdom, connections, and life experience. All your new friends are in their mid-to-late 30’s, 40’s, 50’s, and 60’s now, Betsey. Welcome to real life. These 20-something’s you’ve been running around don’t know shit about shit. Cut them all off. They’re annoying AF.

-If the person speaking is not a creative or artist, do not listen to anything they have to say. If the person in question tries to suggest that writing is not a real career or source of livelihood, cut them off forever.

-If the person speaking is being mean, judgmental, or cruel in any way, cut them off and block them immediately. I deserve to be happy in my life. I deserve to be around people who are kind. I don’t need any more “tough love” or “brutal honesty.” You’re not saying anything new. You’re just being mean for the sake of being mean.

-If the person speaking defends my toxic family at any point for any reason, they’re gone. Cut them off. They are also toxic. I don’t need that energy in my life.

-If the person speaking tries to lecture me about anything, cut them off.

-If the person speaking refuses to acknowledge mental health, trauma, and grief are real issues that cannot simply be “pushed through,” block, delete, and cut off forever. These people don’t believe in science. They’re worse than anti-vaxxers. Nothing they have to say is relevant or valuable. They’re just going to be mean for the sake of being mean.

-If the person speaking is promising you something or giving you advice without taking any real action to help you achieve a specific goal, stop listening to and spending time around them. They’re not going to help you. They’re just being mean for the sake of being mean.

-If the person in question spends most of their time locked into a device with earbuds in, disregard everything they say about anything. These people are not living in the real world. Who wants to take life advice from someone on Zombie Mode?

That’s all I can think of right now. It’s unbelievable how many idiots in this world are walking around acting like they know everything when they’ve barely even read one piece of literary fiction.

Like, literally… be real with yourself for one minute. What qualifications do you actually have that allow you to make these judgments right now? Seriously. WHY would I listen to you?

I just accomplished something I’ve been dreaming of doing my entire life, and you’re trying to tear me down for it. Why? What is that? Why are you out here being mean just for the sake of being mean?

Okay, anyway, I’m done listening to any and all negative feedback. It’s not useful or productive. It just makes me lose respect instantly for whoever it’s coming from, mostly because I’m not sitting there tearing them apart to their face under the guise of “brutal honesty.”

I am very angry and annoyed today. I was very sad yesterday. Hmm. I should check my calendar. Maybe it’s my PMS week? That would explain the weird ups and downs in mood. It’s a real issue for me. I have to mark it out on my calendar specifically so I can self-isolate from other people.

It’s okay. We’ve learned a valuable lesson here. This is like, what? The fourth or fifth time I’ve encountered someone on my writing journey who promised up and down they would help me, only to completely tear me down?

I know it’s not helpful, they know it’s not helpful, everyone knows it’s not helpful. Most people just want their chance to take a shot at me. I don’t know why. I barely have self-esteem as it is. What are they perceiving about me that makes them want to tear me down and “humble” me so bad?

I will truly never understand. As I’ve stated repeatedly in this post, most people in this world are mean just for the sake of being mean. They hate themselves and their own lives, so they have to target others to make themselves feel important. It is what it is. It has nothing to do with me.

Anyway, sometimes you’re just not on the same page. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that it’s important to be on the same page as your Agent/Editor/Publisher. If they’re not going to help you succeed in the art world, there’s no point in keeping them around. There are real professionals in this world whose job it is to help me get published and make a career out of what I do. I just need to find one of them and be done with it.

That’s it. That’s the whole point of this post.

The End.

BLOG: Monday Blues

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Monday.

I am back at the coffee shop after a two-week hiatus. I haven’t been feeling well, so I have been staying in my apartment in the mornings. It’s good to be back at the coffee shop. The Krewe that works here is super fun. Plus, the theme is cats, dogs, and other adorable animals. Pet-friendly! Love!

Yesterday was somewhat frustrating for me. I went out with another friend, which I found to be somewhat frustrating. A few months back, he helped me make a plan for my book. Now he acts like he doesn’t remember. He doesn’t check in on my progress at all. He just lectures me, just like everyone else. It’s starting to get really old.

I decided to be kind to myself this morning and give myself the gift of delicious iced coffee instead of getting mad about it. It’s frustrating, but I just have to get over it. People tend to be very tightly-wound here, if you take my meaning. A lot of workaholics and high-achievers. They can be very judgmental sometimes.

I think they are just measuring progress by the wrong metrics. For example, in this last year alone, I have run a blog and IG account, written a book, designed a new website, made a new business plan, prepped half a dozen screenplay treatments, completed a second yoga teacher training course, and traveled to 7 countries. That’s a lot!

So it’s just a matter of translating that into cash money, which is… much harder to do than I realized. Still, I’ve made it this far. There is no turning back now. The only way through is forward.

It’s a weird position to be in. When I was in Thailand, I felt quite comfortable doing absolutely nothing all day. Life moved at a slow pace. I had my little daily routine. Coffee stand in the morning to write, bar at night to collect stories. Eat, drink, smoke, have a bit o’ craic with the lads, and be merry. All that jazz.

But as time went on, it started to feel like the Land of the Lotus Eaters. It was like being trapped in a time warp. Every day started to feel the same. It was too much like South Dakota. I started losing my inspiration fast. I realized I couldn’t stay there and live like that forever. I had to come back here to Hong Kong and learn how to be a real, functioning adult person who has a professional career in a writing-adjacent field.

Unfortunately, as inspired as I was to climb straight to the top of The Peak, I’ve ended up plateauing instead. I can’t quite elevate myself the way I was hoping. I’m stuck at this same level, trapped in this same routine, endlessly overwhelmed as I struggle to figure out my next steps forward.

I think to myself, “What on earth did I get myself into?” Especially when my friends sit there across the table from me and judge me for being stuck in the position I’m in. It’s frustrating. I don’t want to be this person. I have a vision board.

Honestly it’s still sinking in for me that I even made it this far. 7 countries in a year? Seriously? And I lived in both Hong Kong and Bangkok? That’s insane. I never thought I would see the day. I guess you could say I’m still frozen in shock. I’m here but I can’t even really enjoy it because it’s such a shock to my system. I suppose that’s just what happens when you move abroad. You think it will be so glamorous and then you find out it’s not. It’s just regular everyday life, but everything is so much harder.

Anyway, I’m working on it. The goal is there. The plan is there. The vision is there. It’s just taking a bit more time to manifest than I thought. It’s fine. Everything will be fine. Focus on the vision but be open to new opportunities. You never know what will pop up.

I’ve decided this week is my “Week of No Regrets.” I will do something different every day that inspires me or pushes me out of my comfort zone. I feel like I’m missing out on certain aspects of Hong Kong because I’m always so deep in my feelings. I should just go be deep in my feelings at the beach on a random island instead. Change it up. Use my opportunity to my advantage instead of being depressed every day.

Be present in the moment, etc, etc.

I should go see a fortune teller or something. I just feel so lost right now.

BLOG: And The Balls Win Again

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Tuesday evening.

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

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

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

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

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

It is what it is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wild.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It is what it is…