Tag: yoga

BLOG: Black Narcissus

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Taco Tuesday.

I am not in a good writing habit lately. My routine has been messed up since I got back from Macau. I haven’t been going to the coffee shop at all. Instead I’ve been spending the morning doing yoga and meditating on the rooftop with a side of instant coffee. So not bad, just not writing.

I decided to shut down my Facebook again. Why? Because I hate it. Also, I happen to be in possession of a video taken of myself in Bangkok without my knowledge or consent by some jerk wearing Meta Glasses. We were just at dinner at some random place with another friend, but it doesn’t matter. It’s still creepy, weird, and gross. Also, I know for a fact that guy was out filming other situations that night that he should not have been filming. The people he was filming definitely were not aware of what he was doing at all.

Fuck that gross, creepy shit. I’m just so over it. I’ve never liked Facebook anyway. It’s just causes problems I don’t need in my life anymore. So, we are done now. IG and WhatsApp are much harder to let go of, of course, but neither are Facebook, which is what I really care about.

Otherwise, I had a much better day today than I’ve been having all weekend. I meditated for a really long time this morning and gave my mat a nice scrub down. Then I just sort of sat in my apartment calmly and quietly for awhile.

For some reason I had the random urge to watch an old movie called Black Narcissus. No idea where the fuck this came from. In case you don’t know, it’s a movie about a group of nuns who attempt to set up a convent in the Himalayan Mountains. It was all filmed in Pinewood Studios, which is in England. No one ever set foot in India for this movie. Yet somehow… so beautiful. The cinematography is just stunning!

The movie was pretty entertaining. As someone who has been to India, it was fun to watch them all slowly melt down in real time. Like, girl, been there! LOL!

My favourite was the nun who was so inspired by the views she forgot to plant the vegetable garden and planted a bunch of beautiful flowers instead. I was like, “Welcome to the Yoga Lifestyle.”

My second favourite was the Guru sitting on the mountaintop. Love that for him! What a sage! I would offer him a wreath of flowers, for sure.

Also loved the British dude who went Native and spent the whole movie wandering around in shorts and a scarecrow cap. The funny part was that I saw some random meme on Instagram the other day about advertisements for “Military Shorts.” I was like… wtf? Then I watched this movie and I was like, “Oh.”

Cool story, bro! Can you tell it again? Do you have time?

So I sat on that one for awhile, then decided to see if there was anything on the news besides Dump TV. Much to my surprise, Al Jazeera English was running a special feature on Native Americans going up against ICE in Minnesota.

It was grand until all of sudden we’re back on Pine Ridge, right at Wounded Knee. At least we were in the better part of South Dakota, but still… I was caught off-guard because I was trying to avoid letting my mind wander back there today. And yet… there I was… standing right back at the mass grave, right where I started this journey from.

Trauma-bonded for life.

So right as the shot of Wounded Knee came up, I felt something crawling up my arm. No idea what it was, but it was an insect of some sort and it was in bed with me. Freaked out, of course. Caught it and took it outside. Yelled at it to stay out of my safe space and went back downstairs.

I had just started shaking out the sheets when I looked out the window and realized a downpour had just started. Both my (almost) dry yoga mat and sandals were out on the rooftop. I ran upstairs to rescue both, but the damage was done. The mat is now drying on the stairwell banister, but I’m not convinced it will be dry in time for me to do yoga tomorrow.

I’m not sure it matters. As far as I know, I’m supposed to go to a Junk Boat Party for July 1, which is a holiday here. We’ll see if that comes to fruition. I’ve had no luck with the boat party thing yet, mostly because I’m afraid of boats. It is what it is.

A little bit later, I decided to start watching some Spanish documentary about an escort service in Mexico where a bunch of sex workers were murdered. I got about 20 minutes in and it was too triggering for me. I got really upset when I was listening to them describe meeting clients in hotels. I was like, “This is EXACTLY what the Russian needs! He should have arranged this service for himself in advance. That’s what it’s there for. What gives this man the right to wander around Central and choose some random woman to carry out of the bar to service him for free? Furthermore, how dare he say he doesn’t consent to be written about? Like, bro, I didn’t consent to being used as a free escort service. Fuck you. Next time, be more careful about who you choose so you don’t get a starring role in the sequel to Promising Young Woman.”

Raging.

So yeah, I paused the doc, turned off the TV, changed my clothes, and came out alone for Taco Tuesday. Tonight is just for me. No bros of any kind. No Passport Bros, No Finance Bros, No Influencer Bros, No Diginal Nomad Bros, No Boss Bros, No Neighbor Bros, No Sports Bros, No Bros of Any Kind!

No men allowed in this space tonight.

I had a brief moment of clarity in which I realized my body has actually endured a great deal of trauma this year, in addition to the trauma it has already taken. No wonder I feel so terrible all the time. This year has been a lot! But hey, you know what? I did what I came here to do. As the Publisher said, “You didn’t go there for some stupid job. You went there to write a book. And guess what? You did it. No matter what happens now, you did it.”

It’s true. I did it. And that’s why I’m secretly beefing with my neighbor now. I’m about to drink his ass under the table this weekend. He doesn’t even see it coming! He’s British AF. Does he even drink Kentucky Bourbon, bro? I highly doubt it. He ain’t ready for this jelly!

I’m obviously still mad about Saturday night. Like… Take off the metaphorical Muay Thai gloves and fight me like a real man, bro! You can’t just be like, “All you do is drink all day and make out with random men in elevators!” That’s literally not even true! I’ll have you know, I haven’t made out with anyone in an elevator since The Russian. I did make out with anyone Irishman under a tree, but we were both shitfaced and had a conversation about it later, so it basically doesn’t even count.

Also, you are just mad that you are not in that elevator with me. You’re even madder because you’ve seen me go out of my way to avoid getting into that elevator at the same time as you! You know why! Stop lying to yourself! You know what this is really about!

All of my girl friends are like, “What’s wrong with this guy? Why does he care so much?” Literally no idea. It’s a very small space. Those walls are paper thin. It is what it is. And whatever it is will be resolved at the 4th of July Party this weekend. Come what may!

Well, I am off now. I am going to eat a very large burrito bowl and plan my holiday tomorrow. Have a good one!

BLOG: Failure, but with Style & Confidence!

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Wednesday.

Here we are.

How did my job thing go today?

Oh, it didn’t.

Why?

The usual, well-documented reason. I freaked out, had an anxiety attack, started crying, went into full meltdown mode, and then locked myself in my room and shut off my phone.

Sadly, this is normal for me.

I don’t understand what happened. I did everything right. I prepared. I got enough sleep. I woke up early. I had my coffee, smoked a cigarette, did yoga, wrote a blog post, showered, got dressed, gave myself two extra hours to get there… and then… somehow… I just fell totally and completely apart within the span of about 15 minutes.

Grand.

Maybe I’m just not a people person and that’s why I have an anxiety attack every time I try to force myself to put on the mask and pretend I am a people person?

Maybe I just can’t do these jobs. I can’t be a waitress or a bartender or a barista. I can’t be a yoga teacher or an English teacher. I can’t get up in a room full of people like that and act like a completely different person. I just cannot do that. I would be so much happier if I could choose when I interact with people and how. I want it to all be on my terms. I can’t have it be on their terms.

Yeah so I just… really fucked it all up today. But also… maybe it’s better this way. Maybe I’m just not meant to teach a kindergarten class, or a primary school class, or a secondary school class, or any class in general. And you know what? Honestly… like… no fucking duh!

So what can I do? Ummm… sit alone in the corner, watch people from a safe distance away, and write ridiculous made-up stories about them? I don’t even know anymore. All I know is that I sit here every day watching the people go up and down the Escalator like, “Why can’t I just be normal like them?”

I finally forced myself out of the house after playing Mah Jong for an hour and half straight. I came up the escalator to my fav Greek place. Much to my surprise, my favourite Hong Kong “Auntie” was sitting in the window enjoying a glass of wine alone.

I absolutely love this lady. She has lived in Hong Kong forever! She has all the best stories from the pre-handover, post-handover, pre-Covid, and post-Covid eras of Hong Kong history. She was here for all of it. She watched this neighborhood in Central go from dark allies full of print shops and dirty restaurants to the lively, bright, crowded social scene it is today. Every restaurant and bar owner in Central and Wan Chai knows her. She is the best Auntie to have!

Seeing her instantly put a smile on my face. I was so relieved. I came over to her right away and greeted her. She was so happy to see me. She gave me a big hug. It felt really good after such a shitty, disappointing day.

I told her about my day and she nodded understandingly. “It’s good you find out now it’s not right for you,” she said. “Now you can do better! You have so much talent, so much beauty. You have the most beautiful gift for writing. I see it! Why you not do something with that instead?!”

Everyone knows but me. I’m the only one who doesn’t know it. I’m the only who doesn’t have it figured out. I’m the one who doesn’t know how to take what I have and make it work. That’s why I will always fail…

Ugh, see? Even the restaurant manager just came over to ask me how my book is going. Everyone knows but me. So why can’t I figure out how to make a career and/or money out of this?

I had the most intense vision during meditation this morning. This week I am using the visualization technique of imagining myself packing up a suitcase full of memorabilia representing my past, running to catch the train, dropping the suitcase, and leaving it all behind as I wave goodbye.

Today I took the suitcase and threw it as hard as I could off the back of the train. I watched it explode into a thousand pieces in the station behind me. Each piece turned into a beam of light and took a place on the train platform. The lights hovered in the air for just a moment before transforming into the ghosts of everyone I’ve loved who has passed on. They were all standing on the platform, smiling and waving at me as I headed off on my adventure.

I saw my dad, my grandparents, my friends, my family, my pets. Everyone was there. Even Mad Dog rolled up on his shitty old orange bicycle with a little caddy attached to bag reading “Lemonade Stand.” Each one took a moment to give me a hug and say something special to me before sending me off to Hong Kong. The last thing I saw was my dad looking at me proudly saying, “I’m so proud of you. We are all so proud of you.”

Aww… and now I’m crying in the middle of the restaurant. So embarrassing for my life and my soul. Oh well. The manager literally just told me to make it dramatic. What is more dramatic than bringing yourself to tears while penning your own memoir? Exactly.

Side Bar: This is exactly why I didn’t bother wearing make-up today. I knew I was just going to sit here and write and cry it all off anyway. Pointless. Not even the most waterproof liquid eyeliner can last through my writing process. Trust me; I’ve tried them all.

So yeah, it was a rough day. I just had to sit with myself for a time today and say to myself, “It’s okay if you don’t want to work with children, or people in general. It’s not the right job for you. Trust in the process. Trust in the journey. Trust there is something better ahead for you. You made it this far already, didn’t you?”

I really do love living in Hong Kong. I feel like there is so much here I have yet to see and explore. I’ve been so caught up in trying to be the person everyone else wants me to be or who I think I should be that I’ve forgotten who I really am. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Right now, I feel like I am more lost than ever.

Welcome to life at SEA: Drifting from one shipwreck to another, desperately trying to keep your head above water and avoid all the sharks along the way.

Speaking of sharks, a big old English one dressed in purple just rolled up. I just watched him knock an older Chinese tourist lady out of the way on the Escalator and then mutter an insult to himself on his way across the street. Naturally, he looked right at me in the window, walked in, and sat down one chair away from me. Now he’s talking to himself.

That’s my cue to GTFO! Time to go anywhere that’s not here…

Have a good one!

BLOG: The Wolf of Peel Street

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just saying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wild.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Manifesting. Manifesting. Manifesting.

I am a Hong Konger!

BLOG: Keep the Dream Alive

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Sunday. Sitting out on my rooftop on my yoga mat. It’s not the most comfortable writing position. I suppose I could always use a chair or go get my little lap desk from downstairs. Or I can just put my keyboard on my lap and sit up straight.

Here we are with a coffee and a cigarette. Nothing interesting to report. I was going to go to the Latin Carnival last night, but my friend bailed on me so I just stayed home alone. I don’t know why. I saw a couple of other people I know here dancing there on their stories. I could have just gone and met up with them instead.

I am not great at this socializing thing, as much as I try to be. Also, thesis friend always seems to bail when it’s something I want to do. We always do what they want to do. There should be more balance there. I need to widen my circle so I can have my foodie friends, my party friends, and my adventure friends.

I was also in a weird mood last night. Feeling uncertain about the future right now. It’s weighing heavily on me. I hope I can stay, but it’s out of my hands. It’s up to fate to decide now.

The sun is shining too brightly to be writing on my iPad. I will have to stop and go somewhere else.

—

Eventually made my way over to the health cafe around the corner. It’s about 5pm right now.

I spent most of the afternoon looking at the same graduate degree programs in Paris that I’ve been looking at for the last ten years. I’m trying to be practical about my choice. I’m also trying to imagine myself five years from now. What kind of person do I want to be? What field do I see myself working in? How do I imagine myself beyond where I am right now?

Hard to say. I never imagined myself living in Hong Kong or hanging upside down from an aerial silk in the rainforest of Bali or doing yoga on a beach in India or partying with shady expats in Thailand, but here we are.

Here we are.

I was sort of feeling bad about the fact that I haven’t done it already, but I think it’s better this way. For example, the MFA in Creative Writing. Really glad I didn’t do that. What would I even have written about? Nothing! All the good stuff finally happened this year! With more yet to come…

So that’s off the chopping block, which is a relief. I can write about anything on my own time. I don’t see the need for an MFA. At least not yet. I think I would rather do something with a real career path, whatever that might be.

I’m thinking something on the business side of the creative industries. Maybe something like Arts and Cultural Management. I don’t want to give in to my grandmother’s whole business school thing, but after living in Hong Kong… I kinda get it now. It’s good to have that base of knowledge when dealing with the capitalist hellscape of the modern world we live in.

Plus, we all know my skillset in this arena is extremely limited. Writing, creating, making art — easy. Business? Not so easy. Plus corporate language is, in fact, my biggest weakness. What are these people even saying to each other? No one knows. All we know is that they’re all doing cocaine, which is definitely not for me.

I am now back at my apartment, re-watching Emily in Paris for the 80 millionth time. My last couple re-watches were in English, so this time I’m watching it in French. I try to switch it out.

Amazing how my comprehension of French has vastly improved since living in Asia. It turns out living in places where I was completely illiterate in the local language actually helped boost the skills in the languages I do know. Not sure how that works, but hey, brains are amazing. What can I say?

Anyway, I’m just doing this to remind myself I have something to look forward to in the future if Hong Kong doesn’t work out. The dream of Paris is always alive inside of me!

Something to ease my anxiety in this last month of job hunting hustle. It is what it is. I accept the path the universe has laid out in front of me either way.

Off now. Have a good day.

BLOG: In the Mood for Love

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Saturday morning.

Woke up early from a bad dream. I can’t remember it, as per usual. I either don’t remember or have a very intense, dark nightmare. I wake up angry and frustrated so often. I can’t get rid of the anger. I don’t know how to filter it out.

I went up to the rooftop for a nice yin yoga session. Had a coffee and a cigarette. Meditated. Thought to myself, “Stop thinking about what you’ll do if everything goes wrong and start thinking about what you’ll do if everything goes right.”

Tennis lessons. Horse races. Junk boat parties. Quiz nights. Stand-up comedy. Shopping sprees. Weekend trips to Japan and the Mainland. My very own Birkin bag.

Okay, so it might actually turn out to be a Chirkin, and I’ll probably be flying on a budget airline and sleeping in one of those weird little capsule pods, but you know… whatever.

My meditation colors today were orange and yellow. Finding my center of balance by embracing my creativity energy. Love it. This has been the recurring theme in my journey this year.

It was a good session. I felt safe in my body again and found some clarity of mind. Peaceful vibes. I feel much calmer now than when I woke up. Now I just want to eat some French Toast and stay in bed all day watching Wong Kar Wai films.

I’m clearly a little biased because I’m American, but my personal favourite is My Blueberry Nights. It’s one of those movies that inspired me to set out on my journey. I really identify with the main character, aka Norah Jones. It feels like it would be good inspiration right about now.

Just staying positive for now. Sitting here enjoying the feeling of being safe in my own body. I was thinking about South Dakota again. Everything there was so different. So hostile. I always felt like I was just waiting for the next attack to happen. They were so vicious. It’s not normal.

Here it’s like… I’m totally anonymous. No one knows or cares who I am. I can wander around and eavesdrop on conversations and watch people. No one notices. No one cares. I meet random people all the time who have interesting stories to tell and interesting things to say. I love it. It’s a vibe. I love not being “Betsey Horton.” Like the night I spent with The Russian. I could just be Liz. Most of the time, I just want to be Liz.

This is going to sound strange to say, but it’s weird feeling safe all the time? Like what do you mean I don’t have to worry about any of that anymore? My system doesn’t know how to react to the shock.

It’s like… yeah. South Dakota was pretty bad. I experienced so much violence and trauma towards my body, mind, and soul there. Literally just non-stop attacks from every angle. I knew it messed me up, but I’m looking back on it now after having lived abroad in Asia for a year and I’m thinking to myself, “No wait, actually, that was really, really, really fucked up.”

Rest and recovery = crucial. It’s good that I’ve had a long rest period, though I would hardly call navigating the everyday challenges associated with life in Hong Kong to be “restful.” I think Bangkok was probably more of a “restful” situation. Bali was so beautiful but Yoga Teacher Training courses are crazy intense and basically force you to sit with all of your bad feelings until you find peace.

All of this being said, I would go back to India for a 300hr YTTC in Rishikesh. I guess if Hong Kong doesn’t work out, I can just go do that. Oh, except for the part where July is the absolute worst time to travel to India. So, that’s off the list… for now.

Funny how the hand of fortune deals its cards. We’ll just wait and see what happens, I guess. Hopefully… Magic, lol. Otherwise… I’m fucked.

For now, I think the metaphor of being a woolly mammoth thawing out of an ice block feels apt. It’s like I was just frozen in time out in South Dakota, forced to relive the same hellish situations over and over and over again. Now I’m not there reliving it anymore and it’s like… okay. I’m safe. I’m calm. I’m cool. I can do this.

So what? I don’t know. Get a career and make money and generally be boring and live a normal life? Sure, I would love to be a writer, but it feels like I don’t know how to be professional about it. It feels like all I know how to do is dump my trauma out all over the place. I want to find my own identity outside of all of that.

I just want something else to bring in money for awhile. Something I don’t have to think much about. I don’t know. Clearly “Crunchy Hippie Vegan Yoga Teacher” is not the correct path for me. So what is the correct path for me? I don’t know. I just follow it wherever it goes…

For now, the path is leading me to drop off my laundry and then go out for brunch. I admit that I get really tired of eating alone all the time. It’s nice when there are other people there. They just come and go so often, you know? The life of an expat is very transient. One day someone is there, the next they are gone. Another new person appears in their place, then they disappear again. So on and so forth. Friends come and go, men come and go, randoms come and go. The only thing that stays forever is the story.

Well, I may not be emotionally fulfilled, but I can be physically fulfilled by eating a succulent Chinese meal, so that’s what I’m going to go do today.

Have a good one!

BLOG: CAN-tonese or CANT-onese?

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Friday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thoughts and prayers, thoughts and prayers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BLOG: Chum for the Sharks

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Friday.

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

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

Coincidence? I think not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Learning new things every day.

Gotta love it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a joke, lol.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe I should go see a fortune teller…

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

Off to go home and finish that TV show now.

BLOG: Gonna Have A Good Day

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Tuesday afternoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I forgive you,” I answered.

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

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

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

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

Hilarious, truly, lol.

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

Too funny.

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

Next stop: Kennedy Town!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Off now.

All aboard the ding-ding!

Ding ding, ding ding, ding ding…

BLOG: Erotic Thriller Inspiration

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Friday afternoon.

Post-yoga vibes. Waiting on my lunch at the healthy place. I am trying to be kinder to myself and embrace the whole “healthy yogi” thing. I like cheeseburgers far too much to ever go full crunchy, but a side of granola every now and then isn’t a bad thing.

The other thing preventing me from going full crunchy is the whole anti-vaxx thing. It’s just not compatible with my world view. Like, at all. Anyway, let’s not get into that. Let’s just say I met way too many people in India and Bali who did not get vaxxed before traveling to a tropical destination and could not understand how they got sick.

My yoga session today was more like a meditation session. I did a little bit of stretching, but mostly I sat still and meditated. It felt like the more natural thing to do on this specific occasion. I wasn’t sure why until I pictured myself sitting on a beach and suddenly my dad’s spirit appeared in front of me. He wanted to talk to me. It was very difficult, but I let him speak. He says that he is sorry and he’s watching out for me, blah blah blah, all that lame cheesy shit. Cue the waterworks! Wahhh!

Yeah, it is what it is.

Now I am sitting here at the healthy place, eavesdropping on two Western businessmen having a meeting behind me. One is French and the other one is Italian. Neither of them are living up to the stereotype of Handsome or Sexy. They are doing business in English, so I can understand them. Sort of. I actually have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about. Assets and funds and investments. Snoozefest! Talk about blah blah blah. Is there any subject in this world more boring than finance? Honestly!

Sometimes I think I should just give in to my grandmother’s demands and be boring and go to business school and become a banker/accountant like everyone else on my mom’s side of the family. Then I actually sit here and listen to these Finance Bros talk and I’m like… there’s no way I’m staying awake through an entire semester of this shit. It’s just not for me.

Oh boy. The Italian just started a story with, “Long story short: back in Italy during World War II…”

We’re gonna be here all afternoon at this rate.

Ooh, now it’s finally getting interesting. Apparently this is some kind of Art Deal. Juicy. Show me the good stuff! I need inspiration for my erotic thriller movie starring The Russian. “Shady Art Deal Gone Wrong in Hong Kong” could be just the thing we’re looking for to prop up this otherwise plotless smut!

“Are you going to cancel me for being a big, strong, alpha male?”

No, but I am going to turn you into a character in the sort of 90’s cheesy erotic thriller bored finance bros like you watch alone on a Tuesday night and jerk off to before falling asleep on your ugly leather couch.

“She’s an American secret agent sent to Hong Kong to stop the Triads from a planned heist to steal a valuable, priceless work of ancient Chinese art that definitely belongs in a museum. He’s the Russian agent sent in to see the deal through. How many explicit sex scenes can we put in this film before it gets slapped with an NC-17 rating? Is that even a thing anymore? Find out when we see this big, strong, alpha Scorpio male go full-frontal!”

*giggles*

“I do not consent, Liz.” Ohhh, lighten up already! What’s wrong with using your Hyrox stats to speculate whether or not you can fight a bear without a shirt on? Seriously! I think you need more of this energy in your life, personally. You seem really uptight once that mask comes off.

HAHAHAHAHA

Sorry, I can’t help myself. I live for this shit. What good are men if not to use for inspiration for fictional characters?

Hehehehehehe.

So hilarious. LOL!

Definitely feeling better about life now. This is how I cope with my life. I just wave my magic wand and turn them into fiction. 🙂 🙂 🙂

Oooh, this conversation is getting SUPER juicy! They’re talking about rich art collectors in HK who own all these big businesses in Switzerland. Yaaaassssss this is the material I came here to find! GIVE IT TO ME!!!!

Wow, they own a chocolate factory in Switzerland? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I never would have come up with that on my own! Never saw this Willa Wonka-ass shit coming. Crazy.

Name dropping JP Morgan. Oooooooh gurrrrrrrlllllll this is JUICY!

Hmm, I think it would be funnier if The Russian’s character was just the nerdy Finance Guy sent in from Switzerland to deliver the briefcase full of cash and she mistakes him for The Russian Spy. The Russian Spy is actually an American double agent backed by MAGA with a completely different agenda. She just bangs the Russian Guy because she catches him in the middle of his Hyrox routine without his glasses on and discovers he has practical skills beyond crunching numbers and doing paperwork. Practical skills like wrestling bears without a shirt on and riding on a motorcycle! That’s hot!

OMG! What the fuck is this movie and why do I want to write it so bad?

Lol at this conversation. Shoutout to the great nations of Italy and France! Thank you for coming together to collaborate on this amazing post today! I am soooo here for it!

Yes, and then we can get my hot neighbor to play the Double Agent and give him his first starring role! YES! I love this movie! It’s going to be the kind of trash you cancel plans to stay in bed to watch alone with your pets and a bottle of wine!!!

14/10, would watch.

Amazing. Love the French. Love the Italians. If only they knew of the literary genius they’re actively inspiring with their conversation right now. I’m sure they would be very proud. They would be like, “Well, of course we have inspired you. We are French/Italian. That is what we do. We invented art!” And then they would have an argument over who actually “invented” art and we’ll all be stuck here all day.

Lol so funny. The French guy said, “Hmm, this is an interesting concept, but I do not think I will be an investor.”

The Italian guy immediately replied, “Well, fuck you.”

They are still sitting here arguing over it 20 minutes later. Now I understand why both teams wear confusingly similar shades of red and blue in the Six Nations tournament. This argument was never actually resolved, ever. Right. Got it.

They’ve changed the subject now. Boring. Off to find a different conversation to eavesdrop on to fuel the creativity now! Ta ta!

BLOG: Me Want Deep-Fried Oreo Cookie!

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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!