Tag: yoga

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.

BLOG: Climbing The Peak, Round 3

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Friday. Where has April gone? It’s going by so fast. I can’t believe it’s halfway over already.

Yesterday I woke up and decided to take back control of my life. I did the only thing I could think of: packed up my yoga mat and a notebook in my backpack, picked up 2 liters of water from 7-11, and headed straight for The Peak.

As previously stated, I love to use the metaphor of working my way to top as my meditation when I climb The Peak. The first time I took the tram up to the halfway point, walked halfway downhill, turned around and walked back uphill, then around the mid-point, then up to the top. Took the entire day.

The second time, I was stewing too much over everything, so I started at the very bottom of the hill (my apartment) and worked my way through the Mid-Levels all the way to the highest point of The Peak. As per usual, I got lost, somehow, which added an extra hour to my time.

I was desperate, so I enlisted the help of the character version of the Hot Beef Stew to coach me all the way to the top. There was a lot of complaining on my end. I was very much out-of-shape. I needed to be bribed the entire way with an imaginary Five Guys bag. I kept stopping to write the story about him. It took forever! But I got my Five Guys in the end, so it was worth it.

Yesterday, I did not enlist the help of my imaginary GAA coach to assist me in my mission of walking up this very big hill. Instead, I used the time to alternate between trying to sweat The Russian out of my system and reflecting on my time in SEA.

Where have I been? Where am I now? Where will I be in the future?

It was a very good day. I didn’t got lost. I got my walk time down, even on the second section of the walk, aka Old Peak Road. Old Peak Road is a bitch! It’s soooooo steep. There are times when it’s actually easier to turn around and walk backwards up the hill. I have to stop every 5 minutes on that section. That section alone tests my grit and determination in ways I didn’t know could be tested. I can’t even tell you how cathartic it is to finally reach the mid-point.

The mid-point trail is easy; you’re basically just cruising around in a circle on flat ground, enjoying the view. The climb to the top is much, much easier because it’s less steep and there are different scenic trails you can take. But Old Peak Road? No. Fuck Old Peak Road. Old Peak Road SUCKS! That’s why it feels so good when I get to the top of it.

There is a beautiful little park up at the top of the Peak filled with birds and butterflies and flowers and plants. There are little pagodas everywhere to sit in. It’s the perfect place to have an outdoor wedding. For my purposes, I turned one of the little pagodas into a yoga shala and went full yogi meditation mode. It was so quiet, so peaceful. Exactly what I needed yesterday. Lots of sweat, lots of meditation.

Forget this guy! Onto the next one, onto the next one!

Well, it’s not that easy. I am so tired of dating. I’m tired of the constant revolving door of men. I just want to be with one person for awhile. Very hard to find these days! Everyone is in constant swipe-right mode. One little imperfection and it’s onto the next one! It’s almost as hard to be optimistic about finding a relationship as it is to be optimistic about finding a job in this hilariously bad job market.

I am trying, though. That is why I went to The Peak. I took time to appreciate the views of the city. I took time to express gratitude to the universe for bringing me to Hong Kong. I reflected on all of the good things, the bad things, the messy things. I thought about the fact that I am generally much happier here than I ever was in South Dakota, even on the days when I don’t feel the best.

I cleared it all out, sent it all away on a cloud, and focused in on the specific vision of my life I want to manifest. It comes in bits and pieces. Right now I am focused on the most important piece, which is stability. Oh, god, do I crave stability. No more packing up to move every few months. No more revolving door of men. No more job hopping. I just want to go back to school and write, write, write, and find a partner who will actually stick around and support my various creative endeavors. And then in return he gets lots of hot sex and a beautifully decorated apartment to come home to every night. They say this is what they want, and yet…

Obviously, I have no control over that aspect. I do have control over the school thing though, so I just need to find a way to go back to school and acquire the financial aid I need to pay for it. It’s not impossible. People do it all the time. I can definitely make this happen.

In the meantime, I am focused on being grateful that I no longer live in South Dakota. No one makes fun of my outfits (because here the way I dress is considered “normal”). I can go to a coffee shop or bar and be welcomed in by the friendly staff and owners who know me personally. I get to go out on dates with sexy, attractive men who dress nice and smell good. There is no small town drama, no cruelty, no bullying, no gossip, no fake nice two-faced bullshit, no targeted smear campaign created for the sole purpose of protecting rapists and predators. Everyone is busy with their own lives and it shows.

I especially look forward to the idea of going to a university where people don’t talk shit about me behind my back because I actually raised my hand to answer the professor’s questions instead of sitting there blankly staring at the wall. I dream of a place where I can make friends and join clubs and participate in activities without being shunned for being different. A place where I can meet people from all over the world and take the classes I want to take and learn the things I want to learn and no one will be there to sabotage any of it.

Very idealistic and optimistic, I know. But I think it’s possible. True, there are a lot of assholes in the world. There are definitely assholes here in Hong Kong. I’ve seen them. I’ve met them. I left my job because I had no tolerance for the racism, bullying, and generally toxic attitudes and behaviors of the South Africans. I refuse to go back to The Wolf or The Sketchy Place because of the assholes I met there.

The world is not a perfect place. Hong Kong is not a perfect place. It has its negatives for sure, but the negatives are still better than the negatives of living in a small town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, South Dakota, where everyone acts like they’re in a cult and outsiders of all kinds are considered “bad.” Sometimes I look back on it all and think to myself, “I can’t believe I tolerated that much bad treatment for so long.”

At the end of my date with The Russian, he decided to lecture me about three things. I hate being lectured, by the way, especially by strangers, and especially by men. So you can imagine that being lectured by someone in the middle of some weird roleplay game I didn’t exactly understand was really fucking annoying, and honestly broke me out of the entire scenario. I was like, “Fuck this shit.” I didn’t want to listen to anything he was saying at all. I just wanted to whack him with the pillow and tell him to shut the fuck up and take his stupid nap while I go get in the giant tub.

That being said, he was right about his first point, which is that I should be kinder to myself. This is a very bold statement from someone who took me to a bar that looks like an old timey opium den/brothel/sex dungeon for a date! Oh, so, this is the vibe you’re generally going for, yet you are sitting here judging me for participating? That’s so not cool, bro! Someone needs to be a little more woke when it comes to their sexuality, lol.

Anyway, that criticism aside, he is right. I should be kinder to myself. It’s just that my self-esteem has been chipped away over the years by my abusive family, the cult-like attitude of the small town I was trapped in for way too long, and the questionable relationships I’ve had with men. So now I’m in a place where I have to make up for that deficiency. I’m trying to figure out who I am and who I want to be and how to accept my life for what it is. Radical self-acceptance is the key.

His other two pieces of advice were less inspiring. He told me I need to call my grandmother and that I need to go freeze my eggs ASAP. Dude, the egg-freezing thing was so weird. Why does this random man care so much about MY ovaries when he’s just going to get on a plane and block me as soon as he sets foot back in Switzerland? That’s so annoying! So annoying. What game are we playing here, again? How did we go from Pretty Woman to Fertility Doctor in the span of five minutes? What the fuck is going on here?

As for the advice about calling my grandmother… meh. There’s no point. We have nothing to talk about. She thinks life should be lived one way and one way only, and I do not live my life that way. She’ll tell me to stop writing, and I’ll say, “No.” She will ask me to change everything about who I am as a person, and I will say, “Why can’t you just accept me for who I am? That’s what Jesus would do!” Then she’ll get upset and blame me for her mood without ever taking any accountability whatsoever.

In my family, the problem is ALWAYS me. No one ever has to take accountability for the shitty things they say and do to hurt me. It’s always my reaction to their behavior that is the problem. I am not supposed to stand up for myself, set clear boundaries, or communicate how I feel about anything, ever. I’m just supposed to sit still, stay quiet, and do whatever I’m told. Keep sweet, pray and obey, god’s love is everything, blah blah blah, just kill me now.

Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, bro. But thanks for the “advice,” I guess?

I’ll just stick with the whole “being kinder to myself” thing. Guess that means saying NO to dates with guys like him, right? Right.

Congratulations, bro, you played yourself. No more old timey opium den-inspired sex dungeon fantasies for you! Next time, you’ll actually have to pay a professional for that!

Anyway, forget him. He sucks.

Had to pause my writing to chat with one of the baristas at my favourite coffee shop. It is her day off today so she came in to load up on snacks before she goes to class. She is studying filmmaking. She wants to be a producer. We have a lot in common.

She was saying she doesn’t feel confident with her English, so I was encouraging her to practice with me. She’s way better than she thinks she is. She explained that she lacks confidence because her family taught her to be quiet and introverted. Same, same! I was just writing about that same exact topic! I definitely feel less alone after that conversation.

She was surprised that I was struggling with the same confidence issue. She was like, “But you’re American! Americans are SO confident! You’re so friendly and open. You don’t have any problem talking to anyone! I wish I could be as confident as you are!”

True, but I have to work really hard on that. If you see me around my family, I am NOT the same person, like… at all. They even said to me in Bangkok, “It’s crazy how different you are now than when we first met you. You were sitting in the corner alone, all curled up, terrified to talk to anyone. Now you just waltz right in like this entire room full of men isn’t absolutely terrified of YOU.”

True, true, true.

And obviously confident enough to be going on dates to old timey opium dens with sexy Russians dressed in leather. And then write it about all with ZERO shame whatsoever!

It is what it is!

Off now. Gotta go back and clean up my studio, again. Sadly, I will probably not be attending the Hong Kong Sevens rugby tournament this weekend, even though it’s one of HK’s biggest events. No one to go with, no tickets, not the kind of party one can simply just attend on their own.

Or maybe I’ll get lucky and someone will extend a last minute invite to a junk boat party! Looking at you, Neighbor Guy!

Alas. Maybe next year…

BLOG: Fresh Eyes

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Tuesday. New Day.

Still not feeling 100%, but I am feeling better after having dinner with my friend last night. We went to a restaurant in Kowloon on the top floor of a skyscraper with the most incredible views of the city. Kowloon on one side, the harbor and Hong Kong Island on the other. The food wasn’t great! We were definitely paying for the views. Either way, it was one of those moments that reminded me how lucky I am to be living in Hong Kong.

I was happy to see my friend after the unfortunate incident in the Mid-Levels last week. We had a chat about it. I apologized for putting her in unsafe situation. She expressed concern about my habit of going to random bars looking for stories. I cannot help but agree with her. It is becoming a problem at this point. We agreed I would not to return to The Wolf or The Sketchy Place in the Mid-Levels.

The conversation turned from this unfortunate event to The Russian. I was happy to finally dish out the story to a trusted girlfriend. It felt like I wasn’t carrying such a heavy weight anymore. I could just laugh about it and move on. He certainly did.

Onto the next one, onto the next one…

Then the conversation shifted towards careers. Obviously, I respect her privacy so I am not going to tell you what she does for a living. I will only say that she is in the market for a new job, so we were discussing the process of job hunting in the modern era. It’s not great! She has a whole professional career with years of experience and even she’s having problems with the crappy job market. Depressing to think about.

Anyway, she had a lot of good advice that I’ve decided to follow. Sometimes a fresh set of eyes is all you need to change your perspective. The main thing is really just to work on my confidence. Also, stop doing the same thing I was doing before because it’s not working. Take a risk and try something new. Good plan.

I should go climb the Peak now to reset and reset. Always remember why you came to Hong Kong, Betsey. You could have stayed in Bangkok and lived life on easy mode forever. But you didn’t. You chose to come to Hong Kong, where everything is difficult, expensive, and competitive, and you chose to climb to the top of the Peak, no matter how much time it takes or how many breaks you have to take. You can do this. You just have to try.

Oh, the things I tell myself to survive in this ridiculous world we live in.

I have no idea how long it’s been since I did yoga. Oh wait, yes I do. I did a very intense routine before my date with the Russian. I definitely had to warm up for that one, if you know what I’m saying.

I am so disconnected from my yoga practice these days. Maybe that is why I feel so scattered. I’m just holding everything inside instead of sweating it out on the mat and then clearing my mind during meditation. It really does make a difference.

Motivating myself to do anything but get out of bed is hard these days. Yet somehow I wake up every morning, shower, get dressed up, and walk down to the coffee shop to write. That’s better than most people with depression. Why do I not just go up onto my rooftop and add the yoga in? Why do I not go to the studio around the corner, or any of the 20+ other studios in Central? Why am I not doing yoga?

I could be healthier. I should be healthier. I can’t keep living my life this way. I need to get my shit together. That’s why I came here. I wanted to get my shit together. Hong Kong standards are high. I must hold myself accountable here. Ok, ok, I know, I know.

I’m just… really struggling to find my way on my own.

I’m not feeling well today. I just want to go home and get back in bed and curl up and just… sleep.

BLOG: All Over The Place

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Here we are. Monday, again.

Still nothing to show for my efforts but some blog posts. I like to think it’s okay because I’m getting funnier, in spite of my occasional brush with darkness out here in SEA.

I applied for another crop of jobs last week. Nothing. It’s all the same recycled job postings that were there in January. So I am basically applying to be rejected by the same companies all over again. Fun.

I wish I knew how to do what I do all day and make money from it. All of my problems would be solved. No more pretending I like people. No more “networking.” No more masking. No more exhaustion that actively prevents me from writing and creating art. Just this, all day every day, for the rest of my life. I would be fine with that.

I thought about throwing in a random application for a Masters program at HKU. They would need to pay for literally everything though because I have no money for anything. Not school fees, not an apartment, nothing. I’m in the same position no matter where I move my piece on the board. Sucks.

I was feeling more motivated about it on Saturday morning. Now I don’t feel any motivation to do anything at all. I thought my depression would go away if I moved to the opposite side of the world, but it hasn’t gone anywhere. Some days I just get so lonely and overwhelmed here. I feel so lost. I don’t know who I am or what I want. I am just at the whim on the universe. I am not taking an active role in my own life at all. Honestly, I don’t think I even know how.

In the meantime, I am trying to make peace with things as they are. As I said the other day, I finally made peace with Bloody Mary’s. As we always knew, I was right and all of them were wrong. South Dakota people just enjoy being cruel for the sake of being cruel. They see someone out there doing something different and their first instinct is to burn the witch at the stake. That has literally nothing to do with me or my book. That state is just all bad vibes, all the time. It’s not about me.

I got rid of Andrew months ago, so that’s not an issue anymore. I’ve replaced him with true stories of ridiculous dates I’ve been out on with real men. Made peace with the deaths of Mad Dog, my dad, my aunt, my uncle, and my grandmother.

One thing I cannot make peace with is my living family. There is no peace to be made. It’s a source of constant struggle for me. I want to make peace with it, but I really struggle to accept how fucked up the situation is. It doesn’t help that my mom, grandmother, sisters and aunts basically stonewall me whenever I try to communicate. They really think they can just pretend nothing bad ever happened. They literally refuse to take any kind of accountability for anything. It is IMPOSSIBLE to communicate ANYTHING to them, at all. They will always DARVO me.

They still act like me moving abroad is the gravest crime ever to be committed on earth, which again, makes absolutely zero sense because my aunt literally lived here in Hong Kong for a year. You would think she would be happy for me or asking for pictures or checking in. But she doesn’t. It’s just… radio fucking silence from all of them. It’s so weird.

I swear it feels like leaving a cult, but I don’t know what cult it is or understand how it operates. I can only say that my cousins on my mom’s side are all also in the same situation where their parents are extremely controlling and keep them contained close to home in spite of the fact that they are all fully-grown adults. It’s weird. That whole family is weird. It’s only now that I am on the other side of the world, watching other people post pictures of their families visiting them, that I realize… that shit ain’t right.

I never speak to my dad’s side anymore. After he died, my aunt went full mask off and basically said, “You’re not my family anymore. I don’t want to spend time around you or invite you to things. I don’t want to deal with you at all.” Okay, crazy. I’m sure my Irish grandmother would love to see you treating your own blood relatives like that. I bet she’s really proud.

So yeah, I am definitely having a lot of trouble moving past the family stuff. As I’ve mentioned previously, I am the Family Scapegoat, which means everyone treats me like a punching bag they can take out all their negative emotions on. This is why nobody is happy for me and why they refuse to acknowledge my writing career. They don’t want me to succeed. They want me to fail so they can continue beating up on me. I refuse to accept that kind of treatment anymore, so they are vilifying me for walking away from it and setting up boundaries. It’s all very textbook for people with undiagnosed personality disorders.

I think it’s really hard knowing that they feel this way and act this way. I think I did something really brave by accepting a job on the other side of the world, getting on a plane to come here, and then sticking it out for the rest of the year when the job didn’t work out. I think it’s amazing that I’ve visited 12 countries, studied yoga in India and Bali, and lived in Bangkok and Hong Kong. I never, ever thought in a million years my life would look like this. This is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. And my family, the people who are supposed to be supportive and provide unconditional love, all hate me for it.

Why?

I have so much weighing on my mind right now. My date with the Russian was merely a distraction from all of this. Men are always just a distraction from all of this. They come and they go and, if we are lucky, they provide some entertainment along the way. That’s all we can hope for in this life. There’s no point in expecting anything more from any of them. Just get the story and leave. Don’t get attached. Don’t get hung up. Just take the story and leave.

I know I have this fantasy that if I go to Ireland to research my family history that I will find a new family that loves me and accepts me for who I am. I think this is very unrealistic. I should not go because I expect to find something or receive something in return. I should go because I want to spend my days unraveling old scrolls in the library just for the sake of learning and education. I’m setting myself up to fail by going there “for the people.” I should go for me, to find me, to learn to love me and understand who I am outside of my overly-controlling family.

Anyway, it’s not a good time right now. In addition to the housing crisis, now there is a fuel crisis affecting the entire country. All weekend my feed was dominated by footage of the protests across Ireland. I just felt like… maybe it’s not my time yet. Maybe I have more to learn out here in SEA before I go there.

I don’t know. I am so lost right now. I can’t pick a road to travel down. Some days I just want to go back to India to study more yoga. Some days I want to hop a flight to Vietnam or Cambodia. Some days I want to go to Ireland. Some days I want to dump off all my stuff at my brother’s apartment and just take a backpack all around Africa. Some days I just want to get married and have a nice apartment/condo/house/whatever to decorate. Some days I want to go to graduate school. I really am, as my AI-generated google search results say, “All Over The Place.”

Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel today: All Over the Place.

BLOG: I Think We Lost The Plot

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Thursday. Where did the week go? Oh yes, I know. I spent all day yesterday sucked into Netflix while actively avoiding reality. Nothing like a good true crime docu trio to wake you up to all of the different ways life could go wrong.

I’m not really partial to the murders myself. I like the documentaries about cults and cult psychology. I have watched ALL of the cult documentaries. Unemployment Level 100. I am also fascinated by cult psychology because, as an American, I recognize that my country has been taken over by a very dangerous cult.

This particular documentary was about the FLDS in Utah. It is absolutely terrifying to watch as a woman. I have nothing but respect for Dr. Christine Marie. She is definitely one of my new role models. That documentary was harrowing.

Then I watched the one about the pro cyclist who was murdered by the jealous girlfriend of some loser guy. The girlfriend took off to Costa Rica, where she was hiding out at various yoga retreats. That one definitely made me think a lot. I just looked back at some of the people I met in India and Bali and was like, “WTF were they running from?”

Some of them were really strange and off. As I’ve said before, I’m not sure I would go back to Bali again after what I experienced there. Bangkok, yes. Bali, no.

I found people in Bangkok were generally more open about the fact that they are running away from something. Maybe they won’t tell you what it is, but it’s kinda just the general vibe of the expat community in Thailand. It’s like walking into the Mos Eisley Cantina in Star Wars. You know everyone in there has come from somewhere else to do some kind of shady business. It’s just better not to ask too many questions about it.

In Bali, people are presenting themselves to be something they are not, and what that something is generally involves grifting off of people struggling with mental health, grief, spiritual questions, and a lack of meaning/purpose. I definitely saw some cult-adjacent shit while I was there. I also met people who were just… way, way, way off. Like “maybe they should be in the Hotel California and not running a yoga studio in Bali” kinds of off. Ya know what I’m saying?

It did feel validating in that way. I think sometimes I can be sensitive and take other people’s weird behavior super personally when in reality it has nothing to do with me at all. Like, maybe that lady wasn’t mean to me because I’m a bad person who deserves it. Maybe she killed her husband’s affair partner and went on the run and now she’s hiding out in Bali and she’s worried some writer is going to go snooping around and find out the truth.

Maybe.

Or maybe she was just having a bad day. Either way, this isn’t about me. Don’t take it personally. I’m perfectly grand just the way I am.

Right now I am sitting outside the coffee shop, watching people on the street. I just love Hong Kong. I really do. Every day I wake up and think, “Wow, I can’t believe I get to live here. This is the most incredible opportunity of my entire life. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for it every single day.”

I was meditating last night before bed and the spirit of my Irish grandmother showed up to talk to me. She said, “Do you know what the Irish Dream is? Not the American Dream. The Irish Dream. The Irish Dream is for our children to be free to become writers, poets, artists, musicians, filmmakers. It’s to give them the gift of free time so they can create. You don’t have to slave away at the docks or in the factories or give up your education to take care of a dozen children. We did all of this so you can sit outside on the rooftop and write your book and enjoy life in Hong Kong. Stop feeling guilty about it. Enjoy it. We did it all for you.”

Okay, okay, okay. I get it. My sole purpose on this earth is to Create. I must honor my ancestors by finding a way to become a serious, professional writer. Well, we all know the first two steps: money and a room of one’s own. I have that right now, yes, but how to maintain it over time is a problem.

I don’t know. Somehow I keep making it work. Failing upward, as they say. Perhaps a reminder to focus on manifesting simple things like a fabulous apartment that someone else is paying for so I can just sit there and write all day. Hahaha.

I’m not joking. That’s a real thing. It’s called “patronage.” It’s where rich people give you money and a room of your own so you can create art all day. I’ve actually had several patrons in my life, including my father, my uncle, my aunt, and The Publisher. It really is the best way to go. At least, for now.

That’s what I have to manifest: a patron! Ah, yes, so simple. Why did I not think of it before? Patron, patron, patron.

Brilliant.

Haha, aww, the song “I’ll Be Missing You” just came on the street stereo the delivery guy always plays around this time of day. Definitely a message from my ancestors. My dad always does that. Communicate through music, I mean. Sometimes I’ll just be sitting somewhere random and a playlist comes on that only he would make and I just know he’s there.

Oh yeah, they’re definitely there right now. It just switched to “Empire State of Mind.” Big New York City energy coming in right now. It’s a whole thing.

Now I am sitting here thinking about my book/Netflix show, lol. I’ve been going through my manuscript I made in January and I just hate it. The first half is such a slog. I just want to delete it all, speed up the timeline, and just have the first 10 pages/minutes be a montage of my dad’s funeral, getting fired from Starbucks, car breaking down, losing the house, getting a giant check in the mail, and buying a one-way ticket to India. That’s it. Fuck South Dakota. This is the terrible Prequel series no one asked for. Everything since India is like… my actual real life as I have always wanted to live it finally began. That’s the real story here!

I think we’ve kind of lost the plot a little bit here. Yes, I have meaning. I have purpose. I am a writer. It’s my dream to become a professional writer. That is why I am here. I got on that plane to have a crazy adventure and write it all down. Take whatever comes at me along the way. I did that. I’ve done it. I am actively doing it, even when it comes at a cost, like my little adventure up to the Mid-Levels.

So now we have to figure out how to steer the career into professional mode. I have no idea how to do that. I have no talent for business whatsoever. I need an agent/editor type to guide me in the right direction. Someone who has that eye for business in the way that I don’t and all of the connections I need but don’t have. Again, a patron type.

Okay, I feel like I’m back to normal now after my date with the Russian. Wow, what was that? Hmm. Wild. I don’t actually have anything else I want to say about him here. I just wanted him to know… I could have easily ripped you apart, but I didn’t. But I could. So just… know that.

Honestly, couldn’t even tell ya what he does for a living. You could be water boarding me old school Soviet style and I’d be like, “I swear to you, I don’t know! It sounded so boring. I checked out halfway through his explanation and started examining the crystal chandelier and hanging gardens at the Four Seasons. I can list off every plant and flower in the terrarium. Couldn’t tell ya what he does for work. Something with Finance, maybe? I thought he said he owned his own business. I honestly have no idea.”

The world will never know. Furthermore, the world does not care. The world cares about the part where two Scorpios went on a date to a bar that looks like an old-timey opium den/brothel and it was the most on-brand thing ever for both of them. Show us those terrible red leather couches from the 80’s! That’s what the world really wants to see!

Netflix execs will be like, “How is this even relevant to the plot?”

It’s not, it’s just an excuse to film at the Mandarin Oriental in Hong Kong. Since when do we need a plot for sex? Spoiler alert: there is no plot. This is just a random, gratuitous sex scene with no purpose or relevance whatsoever. Since when do you have a problem including that in your shows?!

They’ll be like, “You’re right. Let’s make sure we get a top-notch intimacy coordinator on board with this production.”

IDK, I think that might be too “woke” for the Russian. I can just imagine the look of outrage on his face right now…

Ha ha ha!

I think I’m hilarious.

Off now. To do what, we don’t know. We know we’re not going back to the Mid-Levels anytime soon!

The battle of Hong Kong Island neighborhoods continues. So far I’ve eliminated Causeway Bay (too busy), Wan Chai (too wild), Central (too expensive), Happy Valley (too far), and the Mid-Levels (too bougie). I’m actually quite happy in Sheung Wan. It’s very… French. Close to everything, but easy to escape from the chaos of the city with a quick trip up to my rooftop.

I think I’ll go do that right now, actually. Then I have to clean my apartment because it’s a mess. All of my clothes are piled onto “the chair” instead of hanging in my closet, where they should be. Alas, I am not fancy enough to have a “helper” or live in an upscale “serviced apartment.” I am confined to my tiny little coffin box with the rats and the cockroaches, living off snacks and instant noodles from 7-11.

It is what it is.

BLOG: Kill Your Darlings

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Monday again. Here we are, still in Bangkok. I decided to max out my 30 days after all. Why not?

I admit it: It’s the magical cloud bed that really does it for me. I need to find out what kind of mattresses they use.

Had to take some time to prioritize today. I woke up very early so I did some yoga, meditation, and journaling. I had some very difficult decisions to make. The only way to do it was to sit down and do it.

Unfortunately, I have made the decision to kill my darling of the year, which is Hong Kong. I love it so much, but it’s expensive AF and it’s draining me. Bangkok, as much as I love it, is also a drain and realistically not a healthy long-term option for me.

So then I had to look at time, money, and future goals. Figure out what boxes I’ve checked on my bucket list of life and which ones I haven’t. Figure out what goal is most important to me right now and pursue that. Be serious. Be real. Stop running around like a wild farang with all the riff raff and get my shit together.

For me, it’s really coming down to one factor: Achievement. I feel like I am underachieving and underperforming in life. I just want to step up my game. Take it to the next level. Actually do something meaningful and useful with my time other than writing about random dive bars to pass the time.

This is why I chose Hong Kong. I wanted it to take me to the next level. Unfortunately, the next level is prohibitively expensive and requires a Masters Degree to be even remotely competitive on the job market. So, it is not working, and I know it’s not working, but it’s hard to cut the loss and walk away since it was such a massive investment.

So let’s say I do walk away. What next? Well, there’s still about a million places I want to travel to. I definitely want to go back to school and get my Masters Degree. Seriously considering going back to India for the 300hr Yoga Teacher Training course just so I can have the Achievement of the RYT-500 Certification under my belt. Maybe just go beach bum it up in Vietnam for a bit. Then go back to the US (where I am literally homeless), hit refresh somehow (crashing on my brother’s couch), and then apply for graduate school abroad?

Hmm… where should I go to school? I wanted to go to France forever, but now I am seriously considering Ireland instead. I’ve already studied in France. Why not go research my family heritage and bang lots of hot rugby players enjoy the various cultural offerings of the Emerald Isle?

I’ve seen something I like and now I’m obsessed with it. So obsessed I spent a whole hour yesterday researching the cultural significance of the harp in Ireland. So enlightening!

Lots of options to consider. Ditch the men, ditch the money pit, ditch the person I used to be and reach for the person I want to become!

All that inspirational bullshit.

For now, I remain in Bangkok. Doing what I don’t know. Sitting on the rooftop, staring out into the abyss, trying to figure out who I am and what I’m doing with my life…

Clearly I have too much free time on my hands…