Tag: yoga

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!

BLOG: Cinco de Drinko

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Wednesday.

Went out with my friend last night for dinner in honor of Cinco de Mayo. We went to a place in Central that was running a “Free Flow” deal on tacos, margs, and Coronas. That means “All You Can Eat and Drink in 90 minutes.” Challenge Accepted.

I ate six tacos (one of every flavor they had) and drank approximately one million margs. Somehow, it did not affect me, probably because I am quite accustomed to partying Latinx style. Back in my NOVA days, we used to play beer pong with solo cups full of Corona and shots of Patron while bumping to reggaeton.

Ahhh, those were the good old days…

My friend, on the other hand, is a serious corporate professional who is not quite as accustomed to putting on a sombrero and throwing back tequila shots like there’s no tomorrow while screaming, “DAME MÁS GASOLINA!” She went out last night looking like Bad Bunny at the Super Bowl and woke up this morning looking like Bad Bunny at the Met Gala. She has now aged 9000 years on the Mayan calendar. She may never physically recover from this.

Oh, we had a grand ole time, though. I’m sure everyone at the restaurant really enjoyed my drunken rendition of “Oye Mi Canto” by Nina Sky that I mastered on my Costa Rica trip back in 2006. That song is such a banger. Their whole playlist was *FIRE!* I couldn’t have chosen better myself.

Anyway, it was fun, and somehow I am magically not hungover. I can’t explain that! Like I said, I guess I just have a lot of experience. I guess you could say I’m a professional.

Yeah, that Russian Guy is really missing out right now. I am The Most Fun. He can suffer all alone in his sad little apartment on his ugly leather couch. He wishes he could watch me put on a sombrero and drunkenly dance around the room to Pitbull. In his dreams! He would be like, “This is too woke for me!” and then go back to all his boring piles of paperwork, or whatever it is he does all day that affords him the opportunity to waste a perfectly good stay at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Hong Kong.

Anyway, forget him. I have to decide if I want to take this Yoga Work Trade opportunity I was offered in Cambodia. I’ve been doing a lot of research. The visa is pretty easy to get and extend. The town itself is very expat-friendly and a surprisingly big yogi haven. There are other opportunities to teach both yoga and English, as well as the option to take the CELTA course in-person for cheap to level up my teaching skillset and boost my CV.

It seems like a good temporary situation to get some more experience under my belt. Then maybe my job hunt will be easier because I have something recent to put on my resume. Plus, it’s Cambodia, and I really, really, really want to go to Cambodia. It’s definitely a challenging situation there, but that’s why I want to go. I’ve studied the history and I want to go.

I can always come back to Hong Kong. As they say, once you’re in, you’re in. And I am definitely in…

It’s hard. I’m caught between my desire for stability and my desire to collect new experiences. I think right now it’s probably better to use the opportunity I have to collect more experiences. I can be stable when I’m 40. Let’s spend the last few years of my 30’s checking off items on my bucket list instead! It’s not like I’m going to get married or have children. I can’t be tamed. No man can tie me down, nor do they want to. They all flee the scene in fear of me once the night is through. It is what it is.

Hmmm… what should I do today while I mull over my decision? Perhaps finish cleaning my apartment since I “took a break” yesterday that led to me sitting in bed watching Netflix for several hours and never finished? Go to an actual yoga class instead of lying in bed doing meditation? Run errands? Watch more Netflix?

Who knows? Let’s find out.

BLOG: Man vs Bear vs Crocodile vs Lion

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Tuesday.

Rainy day. Stayed at home today. I am obsessed with this new instant coffee I bought. Indocafe. So good. Best instant coffee I’ve had in Asia so far, except for that rare mocha brand I got in Thailand once and then never saw ever again. Tragic. Truly tragic.

I need to clean my studio again today. I live in a very tiny little box. Things get disorganized quickly. I am not cleaning, however. I am writing and watching Pretty Woman on Netflix. LOL!

I’m definitely using this movie to measure my date with The Russian. So far, he has failed on multiple accounts. Obviously, there was the bathtub situation. In addition, he did not take me to dinner. He convinced me to skip dinner and go straight to the Red Room with him. How did I allow this man to completely steamroll over my boundaries? Ugh. Can you even believe that shit? How did I let him convince me to skip dinner?

Stingy.

Maybe we thought there would be food at the MO? Then there wasn’t. They gave us some pathetically small snack tray with olives and three cashews and salt & vinegar crisps. Then he wouldn’t let me raid the mini bar. Again, stingy.

What is the point of staying at a luxury hotel if you’re not going to raid the mini bar? Hello! They have room service and champagne and fancy chocolate and a gigantic bathtub with a speciality bath salt & oil mix and extra terry cloth robes and super soft towels.

And now you’re telling me you don’t want to actually take advantage of all of this after luring me in here with the promise of enjoying all of this? Do you even know how to have fun, bro, or do you only know how to suffer?

Ridiculous.

I’m never going to psychologically recover from this date. Ugh. Why did I do this to myself? Oh, right, so I could spend the next three months stewing over it and picking every little detail apart on the page so I would have material to write about on a rainy day.

He said, “Don’t fall in love with me.” He did not say, “Don’t obsess over me and turn me into a literary character.”

Anyway, the hotel room in the movie is actually pretty tacky. Pink carpet in the bathroom? Ew! All of it is just… yikes. Tacky. How much is he paying per night to stay in that penthouse suite? And it looks like that? I would change hotels right away, especially if I caught the staff talking about me like that.

That pink carpet is so distracting. It’s like… it’s trying to go for the “Oriental” theme, but the pink carpet is just… it’s so distracting. It doesn’t look right at all. Why? Can you even imagine how gross that carpet is? I can’t focus on anything else in this movie right now.

Hates it! Good balcony, tho. Love a good balcony. Essential real estate wishlist item.

There’s also a gigantic reddish pink velvet couch that matches the carpet. Oh my god! It’s awful. This is the perfect distraction right now. I literally can’t even.

Don’t even get me started on the outfits. I can’t. I just can’t.

I am also distracted by the fact that Julia Roberts has been living with this guy at a fancy hotel, presumably with a spa, for an entire week and still hasn’t had her eyebrows waxed. Was that just the style back then? Or is that done on purpose to show she’s low-class? Girl, what is you doing? Go get those cleaned up. Just put it on his tab!

LOL at these blue velvet drum chairs at the bar. What is this room? Why is the bedroom powder pink with pink bedding that matches the couch and the carpet?

Oh, I’m not watching this movie at all. I am fully focused on the hotel decor in the background. It’s definitely giving “Mandarin Oriental x Barbie” LOL. I think maybe this guy really did watch this movie on the plane…

I’m pretty sure all of the furniture came from Hong Kong. I see tables and chairs like that in store fronts all the time. That is definitely the style. The plants, the paintings, the lamps, the vases, the cabinets, all of it. It’s all Hong Kong. Wild.

I looked up the filming locations. It says the hotel lobby and exterior are from the Regent Beverly Wilshire in Beverly Hills and the hotel room is a set. That explains everything.

Aww, they’re so cute together.

Anyway, I also re-watched 365 Days the other night, which was hilarious. I laughed the entire time. That movie is just really funny. I don’t know why. It’s probably because the first I watched it, I was on magic mushrooms. Now I just laugh at how absurd it is. Like when they go down into the dungeon where he has that big portrait of himself with the lion head. I just laugh at that image alone for like 20 minutes. Men are so ridiculous! I think it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Like, who does that?

I have so many questions. First and most important: was this a commission? Is it a photograph? Is it a painting? Did he sit for that portrait? Was there a live lion there with him at the time? Was it added in later at his request? Was that part of the original concept? Did he come up with that idea all by himself? Was it a suggestion? Even worse, was it a gift from someone else?

Do you think The Russian has a giant picture of himself wrestling a lion on his wall? Maybe. He might. Those guys do stuff like that. That’s why Vladimir Putin is always posting pictures of himself fighting lions and tigers and bears, oh my! The whole point is to show off how big and strong and manly they are.

Do you think my Russian has ever wrestled a bear? He is very tall and I found his Hyrox stats on Google. I think he could probably take on a bear. I have full confidence he would win. No problem. I would watch this fight on TV.

He’s really missing out right now by not reading this, don’t you think? He’s giving new life to our Feminist Man vs. Bear debate. I pose to you a new question: why not both?

Hey, wait, didn’t I say I wanted a guy on my Island who could wrestle a crocodile? Yes! Yes, I did say that! And whadayaknow? Along comes this Russian guy who actually does literally have a photograph of himself on his Facebook sitting on top of a crocodile with a harness, riding it as if it is a horse. This is real. I am not making this up. He really did wrestle the crocodile into submission.

Okay, I guess I don’t need an Aussie guy anymore. My Island is complete after all. In hindsight, I do think a Russian is better. They’re pretty tough. They know how to survive the Siberian winters. Very useful skillset, as I learned when I lived in the frozen tundra that is South Dakota.

I’m sure he would appreciate the fact that I actually took the time look over his CV and evaluate his skillset before going out on a real date with him. I didn’t “cancel him for being a big strong alpha male.” I gave him a real chance. Mostly because he fulfills the following very shallow list of requirements:

—Must be able to wrestle large, wild, exotic animals.

—Must be able to drive a motorcycle. You know, in case we need to make a quick escape from said large, wild, exotic animals.

—Must be able to afford a stay in 5-star luxury hotels once we have left the dangers of the jungle behind us on the motorcycle.

—Must look good in a leather jacket while doing it all.

Grand.

Yes, yes, I see how this all unfolded now. The heart wants what it wants. Sometimes the universe puts it in front of us, only to snatch it away again. Such is the lesson of the Russian: life is pain and sadness and cold. Love is temporary. Pain is forever. That is why we drink all the pain away, preferably with vodka. The end.

Hahahahaha!

Oh, I live for this. I could do this all day. Let’s see what they have on Netflix for Russian Love Stories, LOL! Spoiler Alert: They all end with someone dead in the snow and their lover left all alone in the cold.

Ugh, the algorithm didn’t give me anything. Netflix search is so useless lately. You can type in literally anything and it will give you the same 10 movies it’s already recommending on the main feed. Why am I paying so much money for this?

Alas, there is nothing to feed the obsession. I have no choice but to abandon this post and tidy up my studio. I see what they did there. Pain. More pain. All pain. Everything in this life is pain. Whyyyyy!!!!

All of this is just to distract me from reality right now. I was waitlisted for the professional conference I applied for here in HK, but offered a work-trade yoga gig in Cambodia, of all the places. It is not “paid,” but it does come with my own tiny house, two meals a day, a doggo friend, a scooter to ride to the yoga studio, and an exciting adventure in a brand new place I’ve never been to before.

So now I have a decision to make. Take a gamble and stay in HK, or pack my bags and head out on my own solo jungle adventure?

Hmmm… what to do, what to do?

Decisions, decisions.

The only decision I’m making right now is the decision to have a snack. I’m not eating enough, I know it. I need something more substantial than crackers and cheese, lol.

Off now. Hope you enjoyed this post. Have a nice day!

BLOG: Shark Fin Soup

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Friday. At the coffee shop. It’s raining today. It rained all last night. The construction was still going on outside until about 2am when the rain started, so the very loud sounds of the drilling were replaced by impossibly loud, extremely terrifying thunder claps. Needless to say, I did not get a lot of sleep last night.

Instead I stayed up late into the night vision boarding and life planning. I was looking at everything I was doing this time last year before Hong Kong. So much hope for the future, lol. Looking back now, I can see why I immediately fell into a deep depression when that first TEFL job went off the rails. Mistake! It wasn’t my fault. This company has a terrible reputation here in Hong Kong!

Still, most people I’ve met out here are better about jumping back fast. It took me more time than I thought it would to jump back. Then again, I was carrying a lot with me when I came here. Like I’ve said, it took me six months just to feel safe in the fact that I don’t have to go back to SD. There was also the breakup, all of the unprocessed feelings about my dad’s death, etc etc etc. I was in pretty rough shape.

Luckily for me, Bali and Thailand’s expertise is nursing sick water buffalo like me back to health, so here I am now. Back in Hong Kong. Recovering after a mysterious set of injuries appeared after I blacked out at the Sevens. Grand.

The good news is that I did get another ping from a source regarding the shadiness of one of those bars, so I’m not wrong to be concerned there might be more to the story. Maybe I was actually followed and attacked? It’s not out of the realm of possibility. I guess I would rather think I fell down the stairs because it’s a more pleasant version of reality…

Anyway, going over my old Pinterest boards always kicks my ass back into gear. I had a plan once. I had motivation. I had goals and dreams and a notebook full of financial worksheets and fancy charts. All of my academic dreams are well within my reach. Ireland is within my reach. The whole world is within my reach. I just have to work for it.

Let’s just channel The Russian’s energy here for a second, just to help me be less messy for five seconds. This is a person who is very educated, has traveled extensively, and started his own business. This is basically just the male version of the person I would like to be. It’s a good thing I fucked him, because now I have his energy inside me and I can be more like that.

It’s like how some Chinese people snort ground up rhino horns or eat shark fin soup or whatever. They do it because they think they’re absorbing the power of that animal. This is my new strategy with men: absorb the power of the animal, which in this case is a scorpion. So just more of the same, but manlier, lol.

That’s actually not limited to the Chinese at all. Wasn’t there an English king who ate a lion’s heart because he thought it would make him more powerful in the Crusades or something? Yeah, Richard the Lionheart. From Robin Hood. I think? Somebody fact check that for me later. I’m in the middle of a flow and now I’m moving on to the part about West African War Lords in eating children’s hearts and snorting gunpowder or whatever.

Hmm… I think I’m starting to figure out why men are so afraid of women, lol.

Anyway, that was a neurodivergent side quest into history. Side bar over. What was I talking about again? Absorbing Finance Bro energy to make myself stronger and more powerful? Yeah, that sounds about right. Somehow this has something to do with making vision boards on Pinterest. I have no idea, lol. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought. Or maybe I just haven’t finished my coffee yet.

I think my goal for the day was to re-do my resume for the billionth time, split it into multiple versions, and start sending it out, again. I was using a local job board, but I have gotten nothing back from it, so I’m switching to a different tactic. Be open. Embrace the chaos. Get that passport stamped. Worry less, travel more. See the world! Save money! Go back to school! Write about it all later!

Hmm.

Too bad The Russian ghosted me. I’m sure he would really appreciate me comparing his dick to illegally-poached ivory products and shark fin soup. I can imagine him doubled over laughing hysterically on the red leather couch right now.

Alas.

I just have to remember: I am not helpless. I am awesome! I am empowered! I’ve made it this far, and by this far, I mean traveling to a dozen countries in two years, attending two yoga teacher training courses in India and Bali, surviving life in Hong Kong after a failed TEFL job, finding my inspiration to write again while briefly living in Bangkok, and adding more characters to my Island of Lost Guys along the way.

I’d say I’m doing pretty well for someone who was intentionally pushed into a mental breakdown after her father died by her incredibly sick-minded co-workers from Starbucks for entertainment. That was three years ago! Wow! And where are those jerks now? Well, one of them definitely went to jail for assault, so there you have it!

Thank god I escaped that place. I hated South Dakota so much. There are no words. I don’t know what’s wrong with those people. They choose conflict and drama every time. Now that I’m far away from it and I don’t have to deal with it anymore or be an active target, I can see how wrong it really was. Sick, sick, sick people. Just sick, twisted, and evil.

Okay. Forget all of that. It’s hard. I still try to drown it out every day. It still affects my confidence. I still have flashbacks about the days I was constantly being attacked online, at work, around town, by my family, by my exes. It went on for years and years and years and years. It’s not easy to forget. I just have to keep adding new memories, new languages, new travels, new stories, new media, new everything to my brain to replace it all.

It is like Kim Kardashian says. “You just need to do so many photoshoots. The good pictures will replace all the bad pictures and soon everyone will forget the bad pictures altogether.”

I can’t remember if she said that in the show or if she said it to me in a dream. That happens sometimes. I have dreams about her coming to me and giving me life advice. Kim K and Paris Hilton. It’s a whole thing. Judge me all you want. I don’t care. I’m willing to take the L on this one. I shamelessly Keep Up and I have no regrets about it.

Okay, I had a mission today. That mission is to get up off my ass and work. Try to find a way to keep the past from haunting me forever. Move forward. Find a new job. Live a new life. Save money. Go back to school. The whole jam.

Motivated AF!

The Chinese guy sitting next to me at the cafe just looked at the bottom of his mug and read his foam the same way one would read tea leaves. How fun! I’m going to try that now. Let’s see what comes up…

Ohhhhhh I definitely got a heart! And a snake. So love is coming, but there will be obstacles along the way. No worries. That’s why I’ve got not one, but two statues of Ganesha, as well as a giant rainbow tapestry depicting him. Obstacles? No problem! We’ll be cruising on through like we’re on a TukTuk ride through New Delhi at rush hour!

BLOG: See the SEA

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Thursday. Where does the time go? I do not know.

I am early to the coffee shop today. Early meaning 10:15am. Normally I come around lunchtime because the streets are busier and much more fun to watch. Today I came early just because I woke up at sunrise, a rarity for me here in Hong Kong.

I am doing a little bit better today. I went out for pizza on the patio last night, which I have not done in over a month. I’ve been going out to different places and trying new things in an effort to cease my reliance on my Western comforts. That being said, one can only eat rice and noodles for so long before they need a slice of pizza with hot sauce and a cup of ranch on the side.

In the case of Thailand, this particular craving manifests as a grilled cheese sandwich with a side of coleslaw and ketchup. I would never, ever eat such a thing in the US. But in Bangkok? Hell yes, give me that shit, I haven’t seen a single tomato in weeks.

I also did a really intense 3-hour Tibetan Buddhist meditation session last night. The drilling on the street was going until pretty late, so I put on my headphones and some chanting and vibed. I had a vision I was doing yoga in Rishikesh. I had a notebook with me full of bucket list items that I was checking off. A nice little reminder that I am, in fact, living my life to the fullest. It’s okay to give myself some space for rest.

Overall, I feel good about my decision to stay in SEA, for now. There is so much more to see and do! Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Taiwan, Singapore, Japan, Korea, Mainland China, the Phillippeans, and, of course, everywhere in Thailand outside of Bangkok. I can go back West to study another time.

Everyone says the first year abroad is the hardest. I would agree with this. It’s been a lot of ups and downs. I’ve seen a mix of beautiful things and things no human being should ever see. It’s been an adventure I wouldn’t trade for the world. Resubscribe me for another year!

Now, if only my job applications would stop disappearing into the void. I need to find work, ASAP.

Anything to distract me from the intrusive thoughts I am having about The Russian. Ugh. Men. So annoying. I thought if I dated guys who just got on a plane and left, it would be much easier to cut the cord. However, this guy has proven it is not so easy, which sucks because I’m pretty sure he’s never coming back! So sad.

Why did I allow myself to be swept off my feet by his overwhelming charm? Probably because it had been five months since the Hot Beef Stew. I was ready to get him out of my system and fantasize about someone else! LOL! Well, I definitely got what I asked for. I am merely sitting in observation of my feelings now. I allow them to exist, but I take no action regarding them. There is no action to take. He is gone. The story is over. The End!

Anyway. Forget him. Let us focus on what is necessary and important: job hunting. Forever and always!

We need to step it up. Do the Hong Kong Hustle, as they say.

I have no idea how I live here some days. You’d think with my current energy levels, I’d be much happier rotting on a beach somewhere in Thailand or Vietnam. However, being here in Hong Kong and soaking up the professional vibes is good for me. It’s motivating. It’s inspiring. It pushes me to be something better than I am. That’s what I need right now in my life. I want to move up to the next level.

Just push me up the escalator to that next level. One more staircase, one more hill, just keep climbing and climbing and climbing until I reach the top…

BLOG: Recovery Takes Time

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Here we are! Wednesday in Hong Kong! Sitting outside the coffee shop people-watching, as per usual.

I love people-watching in Hong Kong. The outfits! Le gasp! Hong Kongers have such great style. It’s very comfy, very casual, but somehow also very professional and classy. I could sit here and watch people all day, and I have.

Other sights I enjoy seeing while people-watching (aside from the outfits): influencers in the wild, specifically Mainland Chinese influencers in the wild. They are on some next level shit. I cannot even explain it to you. I’ll be going about my normal day and suddenly I see an influencer dressed up in a $10,000 designer ballgown posing on the stairway in front of some random fruit stand. Like, why? I love it. It never stops being funny!!!!

They get real serious. I saw a full-on team the other day with a camera crew that consists of one guy holding multiple phones, a hair & makeup person, and a manager-type dictating out where the next location was. Honestly wasn’t sure if the influencer in question was an actual celebrity/movie star type or just some rich chick with an Instagram account. It’s hard to tell!

My other current obsession with people-watching? Old Chinese uncles. They don’t give a fuck! It’s amazing! The best place to spot them is in the park when they’re getting their workouts in. Some of these old dudes are RIPPED! They’re out here casually doing a million pull-ups like they’re about to get drafted into the army and sent off to war any day. It’s crazy.

And, of course, they’re doing it all with a hand-rolled cigarette in their mouths, mean-mugging anyone who walks by.

They have two modes: working out in the park, and slumped over staring at their phones. There is no in-between.

Welcome to Hong Kong!

So it is official now: I am not going to Ireland… yet. But it’s fine. When I woke up this morning, I heard a little voice in my head saying, “You know what’s better than going to Ireland? Not being in debt!”

And I thought to myself… that is very Irish, and also very correct. Not being in debt is fantastic. It’s the best way to live your life, truly. So we have to make some short-term sacrifices now. In the long-term, hopefully it will all pay off!

I actually do feel better today. There is definitely something to the Guinness-Irish Stew-Mashed Potatoes-Garlic Bread-Chocolate Brownie with Vanilla Ice Cream combo. That shit was real medicine, ya’ll. I can feel it.

I also did a really intense hour-long meditation last night in the middle of the night. I was trying to sleep but they were fixing something on the street so there was this unbearable drilling going on well into the night. I just put on my headphones and went into chakra cleansing mode.

I asked a question but I did not get an answer. Instead my Irish grandmother showed up as my spirit guide and gave me a great big hug. She just kept repeating to me over and over, “You are loved, you are loved, you are loved.”

She also said my dad wants to talk to me, but it’s really hard for him. I agree with that. It’s still really hard for me to talk to him. She said she doesn’t think we are ready yet, so she’s the one that decided to take over for him. I’m cool with that.

Best we can do right now is the occasional song on the radio and gently pushing the dessert menu my way. It is what it is.

I did say one thing to my dead dad’s spirit last week. It was really cathartic. It was after the LiveNation/TicketMaster verdict came out. This was my dad’s dream case. He was working on it when he died. As soon as I saw the news, I stood up and said very loudly to no one in particular, “I don’t give a flying fuck about TicketMaster, Dad!”

And I don’t. I really, really don’t. I don’t care about my dad’s career at all. I don’t care about his students (many of whom were smarmy, obnoxious suck-ups who I genuinely felt lacked real intelligence). I don’t care about his legacy. I don’t care about any of the cases he worked on. I don’t give a flying fuck!!!!!!!

Now the entire world knows the truth about Betsey Horton, Writer Extraordinaire! I do not give a fuck about antitrust law in any way, shape, or form. Not my circus, not my monkeys. The US is totally fucked and there’s no coming back from it. A lifetime of work, all for nothing. Was it really worth it to hurt your children and destroy their lives over it? I don’t think so!

So yeah, I don’t give a fuck. It felt so great to just say that. Yeah. I do not give a fuck. Just like my dad never gave a fuck about me or what was good for my health or well-being. If he really cared, he wouldn’t have forced me to move to South Dakota. He would have just let me go to live my life the way I wanted to live it. But he didn’t. Instead he held me hostage for my entire adult life, and now I’m finally free.

Unfortunately, I still have no idea what to do with my freedom, except apparently get drunk and fall down the stairs and hit my head so hard I turn into Little Miss Optimist!

It’s okay. I’ve been researching this topic. It takes a lot of time to feel safe again after escaping an abusive situation. As we all know, my trauma is of a very complex nature. It’s taken some time to sort things out.

I had identified 4 areas that were the biggest problems: Relationship Trauma, Family Trauma, Work Trauma, and Location Trauma.

As of right now, I feel that I have done the necessary work to heal the Relationship Trauma and the Location Trauma.

I clearly no longer fear men, sex, or dating, so that’s good. I worked that out! That was really hard for me. I didn’t date through my entire 20’s because I was raped and assaulted and had the entire school/town gang up on me and call me a liar when I wrote about it. Now I see that behavior has nothing to do with me as a person.

Conservatives in general simply love predators and abusers. They love protecting them even more. Look who they worship as their King! That behavior has nothing to do with me. That’s just how they are. They’re a basket of deplorables. Always have been, always will be.

Mystery solved! The End!

It can be hard some days. I still have nightmares and flashbacks about living in the Town. It took me about six months after I left the country for it to really sink in that I finally escaped that place for good and I never, ever have to go back there ever again.

Some days I still wake up in a panic thinking I’ll have to go back there someday. But I don’t have to go back. I never, ever have to go back there ever again. I am marked safe from the state of South Dakota, today, tomorrow, forever, and always.

And she lived happily ever after. The End.

So now that I’ve escaped The Town, aka the source of the Location Trauma, I can date, make new friends, meet new people, and network without dealing with any of that bullshit following me around. I get to live a brand new life, free of the Rape Apologists running an active smear campaign in an attempt to ruin my life. And I get to date much, much hotter guys. BIG, BIG, BIG win for me!

Now the two things that are left are Work Trauma and Family Trauma. The Family Trauma is like an open wound that is just spilling out all over everything. It’s just gushing blood, nonstop. Just an endless well of pain. It feels like I’m trying to put a tourniquet on the wound to stop the bleeding but it’s not working. There is no stopping the bleeding. It’s just going to keep coming out till I die on the floor.

There is NO ACCOUNTABILITY from my family whatsoever. NONE! That is the aggravating part. There is just this total refusal to acknowledge anything that happened or talk about it or try to communicate in a healthy way at all.

Everything just gets dumped on me, and I get blamed for everything, and then I get vilified even more when I stand up for myself and say, “Hey, this is actually unhealthy and wrong. I’m not going to be your scapegoat anymore. Please respect my boundaries.” And then what do we get? More stonewalling and silent treatment as “punishment.” It’s all so textbook. It really is!

So there’s clearly nothing to be done about it, because even though I am the one who is tasked with the job of “fixing everything” because it’s always “my fault,” no one will actually sit down with me or take the time to work out any of it. Yet somehow there is always something new to blame on me or some recently invented problem that is magically my fault even though I had nothing to do with it. Love that.

So yeah, we can’t resolve that. I don’t know how to heal from that or resolve it. Just always be sure to remember why it’s always been my life dream to put an ocean between myself and my family. My goal for the future is to just stay as far away from all of them as possible. They can’t hurt me if they’re not in my life anymore.

Really gotta work out this whole job situation so I can be free of them forever. Too bad my applications keep disappearing into a virtual blackhole while these comic book supervillain tech bros shoot up Special K and blabber on about “replacing everyone with robots.”

Where is James Bond when you need him? Seriously. I’m so tired of listening to these utterly deranged men with no empathy or compassion openly talk about destroying the planet. It’s exhausting.

Like, yeah, I remember when I was 17 and hated everyone and wrote a manifesto about nuking the world. Then I grew up. I went to India and studied yoga and learned how to appreciate art and went out into the world and saw the beauty of it all. I stopped being angry and hating everyone and everything. It really made a difference in my life for the better! Y’all should really try it sometime!

Mitakuye Oyasin, assholes.

This leads us into Work Trauma. Obviously, most of this comes from living in South Dakota and being forced to work with and around some of the worst people on Planet Earth. Every job I had when I lived there consisted of non-stop gossiping, bullying, hostility, stealing, cheating, lying, corruption of all kinds, and a general effort to hurt as many people around they could for their own selfish gain.

It was the worst at Starbucks. Everything they did to me there was 100% illegal under the law and against the code of conduct in the Employee Handbook. Nobody cared because they don’t have values or morals or empathy or anything like that. It’s just uncontrolled mob violence at all times.

I don’t flourish in that type of environment because, again, I’m not a sociopath who is willing to crush anyone and everything around me just to make $.50 more. I’m just not interested in that. I don’t like hurting other people. The idea of intentionally running someone out of a job so they no longer have healthcare or a paycheck is literally the definition of “psychotically evil” to me. Yet to most of the people I encountered in South Dakota, it was considered “fun and games.” They would brag about intentionally creating situations where people lost their housing and healthcare.

Horrible, horrible, disgusting, depraved people. Just awful in every sense of the word.

I saw and heard so many horrifying things when I was working in South Dakota. It was unbelievable. Truly. Sometimes I look back on it and think, “I can’t even believe that shit was real. What the fuck is wrong with those people?”

They’re psychotically evil, they have no soul, they lack empathy, and they are sadists who actively take pleasure in being as mean and cruel as possible to other people. That’s what’s wrong with them. It is what it is.

Unfortunately, it’s a very prevalent attitude in the world right now. The worst people on Earth have now all been emboldened by the Dump Truck to be as shitty and evil as they want with zero consequences. Meanwhile, we’re all just sitting here derping around, letting it happen, like… whatever.

Anyway, this is why I could not tolerate the South Africans once I discovered the truth about how they ran the company I originally came to work for here in Hong Kong. I took one look at that crazy apartheid shit and Noped right out. I’m not dealing with that again.

Same thing as South Dakota, but worse, mostly because South Africans don’t hide their shittiness under a fake nice veneer like South Dakotans do. They’re just out in the open about the fact that they are bad people with extremely problematic world views. And you know what? I’m grateful for it, because I saw all of those red flags waving and got the fuck out before getting hurt again. Now I have all the documentation I could ever need to prove that this was actually the company’s problem, not an issue with me as a human being. Go me!

So now I just want to find a situation where I don’t have to deal with any abuse anymore. It’s a dream, I know, but there must be something out there I can do that doesn’t require me to be at the mercy of someone who can accurately be described as a “comic book villain.” I just cannot have that energy in my life anymore. I’ve been vastly overexposed to it. I have no more tolerance for it at all.

Zero tolerance policy towards sociopaths. Period.

In the meantime, we never did figure out what actually happened on Saturday night. One of the baristas just stopped by my table to chat with me about it. She said, “I don’t think it’s safe for you to go out by yourself anymore. I’m really concerned about you after some of the stories you’ve told me about the people you’ve met. The fact that this has happened to you now three times in a month, and it started happening after you met these guys… are you sure there isn’t someone following you or keeping tabs on you? They do that to journalists here, you know.”

Maybe. Who knows? It could be someone messing with me. It could also just be me drinking too much wine. Either way, she is right. It’s not safe to go out alone after dark anymore. Find a friend and go with them, if I go out at all.

It’s comforting to know that someone cares today. It really is. I needed that today. Some days I just feel so alone on this journey.

Anyway, let’s say someone did drug me and attack me on the stairway and hit me in the head to “teach me a lesson.” It obviously didn’t work! I’ve been following a lot of Irish Heritage pages on Facebook and I’m here to tell you my DNA is unmatched in strength and resilience after 900 years of surviving attempted genocide in various forms. It’s gonna take more than a little push down the stairs to get rid of me!

Besides, I’m not a journalist. I’m a writer on an epic journey of self-discovery across the world, dragging a 3-piece luggage set full of heavy trauma behind me. I’m here to start my life over. I want a fabulous apartment and a job I can tolerate and an actual, real long-term relationship with someone who isn’t an abusive, rapey, narcissistic sociopath. It doesn’t seem like it’s a lot to ask for, and yet…

Anyway, I’m off now. My head still hurts. Gonna lay down in bed again with my ice pack and meditate. It’s okay for you to rest, Betsey. It really is. You’ve been through so much already in life, and now you’ve just taken another beating, so yeah… it’s fine if you want to lay down and rest.

Rest, rest, rest…

Have a nice day, y’all.