…sometimes this old barrio feels like a long last friend.

Okay, enough with the channeling of John Denver. I’m just glad to have escaped the big city relatively unscathed. It’s not that I’m averse to city life, I loved Seoul for example. But something about Manila, even its upscale center Makati, just grates on me. So nice to have left the city sidewalks (such as they were) behind and walk the beaches again today. Got some hugs and sweet loving from my good Buddy too which warms the heart.

The trip was pretty much a fiasco–a waste of time and money. I already wrote about the Philippine Retirement Authority issues. I heard from a commenter on a possible work around as far as the money transfer goes. And another reader emailed telling me his experience with the retirement visa and it didn’t sound very encouraging. So, we’ll see how I choose to proceed. For now it will be another 60 day renewal on the tourist visa.

Last night I was supposed to meet my friend Gem at 7:00 p.m. so she could repay the $1000.00 I loaned her several months ago. Long story short, she never showed. I sat at the Cubana bar drinking beer while I waited. By 10:00 p.m. I was drunk and angry and stumbled on back to my room. I had made arrangements for my driver to fetch me at 5:00 a.m. in an effort to avoid the traffic getting out of town (today is a Filipino holiday). I set the alarm for 4:00 and Danny texted that he had arrived at 4:10. So I hustled up packing and checked myself out of the hotel. Traffic was heavy but moving steadily so that was good. Until we got a flat tire, which sort of serves as a metaphor for my wasted trip.

While waiting in the bar I took these photos of life on P. Burgos Avenue in Manila:

This is the hooker that practically stalked me every time I was out on the street. Didn’t want to take no for an answer, finally had to be rude to get her to back off. Until the next time I was outside, and then she would continue her aggressive pursuit. It got to be a pain in the ass, but even so I felt a little sorry for her.

Now this old woman was just batshit crazy. Pacing up and down in front of Cubana’s bar shouting and laughing and talking to herself. Sometimes she’d veer into the street and cars would have to dodge around her. I felt certain I was going to have to witness seeing her run over. Security tried to run her off, but she always came back. Depressing really.

And what I found most disconcerting was this young girl, what, maybe 12 years old, out on the street. No idea what was going on, I didn’t see her try and talk to anyone passing by and no one said anything to her. The woman in the background was always nearby…not sure if it is her mother or guardian or what. But I first saw them around 3:00 p.m. and they were still there at 9:00. I almost crossed the street to ask the woman to take that child home, she shouldn’t be out on the street with the hookers. But then I remembered where I was and what I am so I kept my mouth shut. Nothing good was likely to come from my getting involved. Again, if I had actually seen anything that looked the girl may be being exploited or otherwise in danger I would have alerted the authorities. Absent that, the foreigner needs to mind his own business in this country.

Did I mention it is good to be home?

If you can’t beat them, join them!

No business to conduct this morning so I took a stroll around the city streets. Damn, I could not live here! Cars and horns galore. And being harassed by the prostitutes. Had a hard time getting my steps in, but I sucked it up and got it done. Leaving early in the morning and looking forward to it.

Here’s some photos I took whilst out and about.

This is my favorite hangout, the Cubana bar. I sit at a table with a nice view of the street.

And enjoy frosty cold beverages like this…

…while watching the hookers plying their trade. It was funny, a few minutes after taking this photo the guy at the next table brought the girl in shorts over for a drink/negotiation. Must have been for short time because she was back out there before I left the bar….

Ready for a game of frogger? Naw, better wait for the next signal change, these guys are rarin’ to go, horns ablaze…

It was nice to see my dog is famous here. Even has a restaurant named after him…

I didn’t know Buddha drank?

Trump. Is there anything he can’t do?

Anyway, all my bitching aside, it is an interesting and rather diverse area. Lots of international cuisine, including Korean, Arabian, Turkish, and Spanish restaurants. But I love this place right across the street from my hotel:

The Filling Station Diner. It’s a throwback bar and grill, with a 1950s Americana motif.

And the food is excellent, albeit a little pricey. Yesterday’s club sandwich was one of the best I’ve had in years….

And this morning’s french toast was also outstanding.

The interior decor was a trip down memory lane…

I’ve seen banana splits, but a ’57 Chevy split? That’s a first!

And I took a moment to harmonize with Elvis before heading out.

And I guess I’ll do some more of the same on my last night in the big city.

This morning I’m off to the city I love to hate, Manila. At least I’ll be in the upscale Makati district, but still. The purpose of the trip is to initiate the long delayed process for obtaining my Special Resident Retiree’s Visa (SSRV). I’ll be visiting the offices of the Philippines Retirement Authority who will helpfully (hopefully) guide and assist me in completing the various requirements. If their website is to be believed anyway. I know I’ll need to get a medical exam and also deposit $10,000 in an approved Philippines bank. There is also a requirement for a police clearance from your home country but since I’ve not lived in the USA for several years that perhaps can be waived. Anyway, I’m staying until Friday which hopefully will give me ample time to complete everything required so I can avoid another trip to the big city.

The drive down ought to be interesting, but I’ll save that story for another post. Meanwhile, here’s a few photos from yesterday’s Hash:

On-On! I like it when we walk out instead of taking the Hashmobile.

As is often the case the trail led through my subdivision. None of my neighbors seemed concerned about this mysterious white powder though…

This being my 26th Hash I’ve walked this trail before–in both directions. I still find it pleasant though.

It was a comparatively easy hike yesterday. Only one mountain and just a couple of places that challenged an old fart like me.

A helpful Hasher helping the lovely ass lass in front of me get through a gully.

And there were other nice views as well…

More to come from Manila! Stay tuned.

Sometimes you just hit a dead end. And some days you hit several.

That’s how it was with the walkers group yesterday.

There were 7 of us when we started out. Rode the Hashmobile several clicks out of town to a subdivision featuring this view…

We had a new guy, Tim, along with us. Just recently retired from the VA and moved to Olongapo with his wife. He looks like I did three years ago and his goal is to get back in shape. I admire that but these long ass hikes up and over mountains are probably not the best place to start. I wondered whether he’d make it, but not for long. About halfway up the first incline he bailed.

For the second Saturday in a row our “leader” was having a difficult time finding trail. We kept hitting dead ends and having to retreat. This is especially frustrating after a strenuous climb. Oh, I guess it’s Fiesta season. People tie colorful bags and shit on string and hang it up. Got to admire their spirit.

Speaking of spirit, the Holy Spirit was on display at this Christian school we passed by. I’m not sure where intellectualism and fear of God intersect, but hey, I guess it’s a matter of faith.

So, us walkers continued our hit and miss efforts, eventually ending up in an area I at least recognized. I always appreciate that because I feel more confident when I know I can find my own way home.

These makeshift stairs seemed promising because someone went to a lot of effort to construct them. Nope. Another dead end.

Well, the leaders of the walkers (those German guys again) were bound and determined to find a way over the mountains to get back to Barretto. We were two hours into the hike by now and I was just about at my limit. So I decided to abort the mission and bail. I confirmed my supposition that the road at the bottom of those makeshift stairs pictured above did in fact lead back to the National Highway. I said my farewell and headed back down. Another member of the group decided to come with me.

Interestingly, when we reached the highway we encountered Tim making his way back to Barretto as well. He said he didn’t like being a quitter so he just kept on walking after he left us (the highway is mostly flat and more suited to his current level of conditioning). Good for him! So the three of us made our way over to Cheap Charlies for the cold beer we had worked so hard for and the the remaining four members arrived about 30 minutes later. I had a 25,000 step day, despite the abortion.

It does get a little frustrating sometimes when the trail doesn’t go as smoothly as you might like. Still, the point is to be out and about getting some exercise in. Even when you wind up backtracking you are still accomplishing that purpose.

This morning I tackled the long walk to the Navy base. Thought I’d return along the beach, but I started at a point further out than where we had recently Hashed. And came to an impassable cliff. So, I had to abort my plan and walk back on the highway. Ah well.

Chili in the crockpot and darts on tap for the afternoon. Life is good.

On the expat forums there is always some controversy surrounding the ethics of tipping your service providers here. It seems to boil down to a disconnect between folks from a tipping culture (Americans) and those from countries where it is not the norm. The non-tippers get upset because us tippers raise expectations and make them appear to be cheap Charlies. Me, I think they are selfish bastards especially when the folks serving you are lucky to make the equivalent of three or four dollars a day in wages.

Anyway, I recently got involved in a convoluted situation with its genesis in tipping. My friend (let’s call her “Ann”) a waitress from Treasure Island, sent me a message saying she had been suspended from work for two months. I of course asked why and she said it was because she had pocketed a customer tip instead of putting it in the “shared tip” pot. She said everyone does it but she got caught. Well. If the rule is all tips are to be shared amongst the staff then her excuse is unconvincing. On the other hand, if I tip someone for special service provided to me, I want my tip to go to her. Still rules are rules and she should have followed them. A 60 day suspension does seem harsh though.

What got me though was learning that the establishment also keeps a portion of the tips! That is such complete and utter bullshit that I found it hard to believe. So I sent a message to my friend Jerry who until recently was the Treasure Island manager. He was completely unsympathetic to Ann’s situation and said her complaints were just sour grapes. He did confirm that TI keeps 15% of the tips received by staff and uses them to pay for the annual Christmas party. Hmm. Again, I’m a generous tipper normally but I’ll be damned if I want that money going to anyone other than those who have provided the service for which I am tipping. I made a mental note to myself to no longer tip at TI. I also now either inquire of my waitress how tips are handled and more often than not, I surreptitiously slip it into her pocket.

But it gets worse. It turns out that Jerry shared what I thought we discussed in confidence with the owner of Treasure Island. I didn’t mention Ann’s name to Jerry, but of course it wasn’t hard for them to peg her as the one talking out of school. The next day I got a frantic message from Ann wanting to know if I had said anything about what she told me (she had in fact asked me not to share what she had told me with anyone). I had to confess that I had talked to Jerry. Ann told me they were now retaliating against her by refusing to provide a “certificate of employment”, a document she required to prove she had the experience listed on her resume so she could find another job. She begged me to go back to Jerry and ask him to intervene on her behalf. I promised I would.

I was of course pissed at Jerry for sharing our conversation and angry with myself for having betrayed Ann’s trust. I thought long and hard about how to approach Jerry, and finally decided to grovel–“I was only asking from a customers perspective. Ann had not told me anything negative about TI and she should not suffer repercussions based on my indiscretion.” Jerry gave me a bullshit answer “I don’t have a problem”. Yeah asshole, the problem is what you said to the owner.

Ann was beside herself with worry, she has a potential opportunity on a cruise ship and needs the letter of employment. So, I went back to Jerry and told him that if the owner was withholding the employment letter because of something I said that was wrong. I specifically asked him to intercede with the owner. His response–“I understand Ann is trying to “poach” other employees.”

Okay, now I’m really angry and it was clear Jerry was not going to be any help. I’m an old union guy and 30+ year HR professional and I can’t stand to see workers exploited this way. You can’t “poach” an employee who is happy with their work situation. And it was now clear to me that TI treats their employees poorly. So as much as I try to avoid getting sucked into drama, I felt like I had contributed to Ann’s dilemma with my big mouth and it was on me to find a way to fix it.

I don’t know anything about Philippines labor law, but a quick Google search revealed that the “certificate of employment” is something an employer is required to provide. It appears there are some pretty severe sanctions for failing to do so. I told Ann to ask one more time that the certificate be provided and if it was refused I’d pay for a lawyer to file charges against TI. Ann was ecstatic and called me “the best friend ever”. Well, I don’t know about that. If I had kept my mouth shut to begin with…

Anyway, I heard back from Ann that the owner wanted to meet with her. I advised her to be polite, admit she had made a mistake, and thank him for the opportunity he had given her to work at TI. As I told her, it doesn’t have to be true, but sometimes sucking up is the best course of action. Apparently it worked because she came out of the meeting with the employment certificate in hand and best of all it did not contain any derogatory information on the circumstances of her departure from TI.

All’s well that ends well I suppose. Some lessons learned of course, but that’s good too.

…on these photos from my Thanksgiving Day celebration.

So, I had reserved a table at the Arizona Resort in advance. Arrived to find this. Wasn’t sure if they were talking about me or a McDonald’s dessert…

My guests for the meal, Ester, Cherry and Marissa…

The food was all surprisingly good, even by Arizona’s high standards. They had both baked and deep fried turkey and all the side dishes were delicious as well. Yeah, some of my favorite TG standards weren’t there, like candied yams and green bean casserole, but what are you gonna do? My only real complaint was there was no dessert included. I could have gone for some pumpkin and/or pecan pie!

When we finished our meal we headed out to the Arizona floating bar for some liquid refreshments…

Life is good…

…and so were the views. On Wednesday I was up on top of that mountain looking down at the bay and on Thursday I was looking up to where I’d been.

Sometimes life’s a beach…

We enjoyed a few hours on board…

I’m not saying I got a little drunk or anything…

…but I did see the sun go down…

…and the moon come up!

After we left Arizona it was on to our regular karaoke (videoke in local parlance) joint to sing our drunken hearts out. It was a damn fine day. I went home comfortably numb and feeling thankful.

There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship smoke on the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move but I can’t hear what you’re saying
When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown
The dream is gone
I have become comfortably numb.

Here’s wishing my American readers a very happy Thanksgiving day. Don’t eat too much!

I can’t promise to take my own advice in that regard as I’ll be dining at the Arizona resort’s special turkey buffet this afternoon. Need to get my pesos (595, around $12) worth! Will be dining with some friends from Alley Cats bar because who wants to eat a feast alone?

In the spirit of the day I can say I’m indeed thankful for my family safe at home, my life here, my health, and my loving dog. Life is far from perfect but I know I’ve been blessed.

What else? Well, it’s been a while since I’ve had a day like this:

Three hours with the sausage walkers will do that…

Yogi Berra famously said “I came to a fork in the road and I took it”. What do you do when you encounter a spoon?

We gather every Wednesday at 1000 at the Angels bakery then head for the hills…

And damn, every time I think a climb can’t get any harder, it does.

Unlike the Hash, the trail is not laid out and marked in advance. We are basically just winging it, although the more experienced walkers usually know what’s ahead from past experience. Except when someone constructs a new razor wire fence blocking the trail. We couldn’t go around the fence so we went through it.

About an hour into the hike we came upon what I assume was a rest area. No idea what the real story here is/was.

The effort is rewarded.

It was a cool(er) day, overcast with occasional sprinkles. Quite pleasant really.

This week’s iteration of the sausage walkers…

Happy Thanksgiving y’all!

It was deja vu all over again. Although not technically a rehash since Saturday’s hike wasn’t a Hash event. Still, it was exactly the same route I took with the “sauerkraut” walkers. Probably should not be surprised because the Hare was the burly German guy–he just killed the proverbial two birds with one stone I guess. Still just a tad disappointing to not see something new, but other than the exhausting mountain climb it’s a pretty nice trail. Here’s some photos:

A longish trail. It was getting to be pretty dusky by the time I made it back…

The Hare, Almoran, giving last minute instructions…

The walkers being transported to the trail head in the Hashmobile…

That would be me in the back of the truck…

Ready to get started?

And we are “on-on”!

That mountain is a tough motherfucker…

But maybe if you live up there you get used to it…

And there are the views…

That’s me walking the ridge line, a comparatively easy way down…

The old Navy base on the left as we made our way back down to the National Higway…

I just can’t imagine living like this…

My nightmare when I walk the highway. But we made it across safely…

…and onto the beach for a relatively easy walk on-home.

During the Hash circle I was recognized with this headband for completing my 25th Hash…

Ha! And now I’ve completed my 25th post about my Hashing adventures. You’re welcome!

UPDATE: Came across this story about the Hashers causing a panic by marking the trail with “white powder”. HaHa, it’s flour folks. Environmentally friendly!

Well, technically it was the Saturday offshoot of the Sausage Walkers group. There were only four of us today though, three German speaking guys and me. But they were pleasant enough so it would be unfair to dub them sour Krauts. Ahem. I’m used to walking alone anyway so them speaking amongst each other in their native tongue didn’t really bother me at all. I was participating primarily to push myself to walk harder (everywhere I walk on my own tends to be flat) and to explore new trails I’m not adventurous enough to discover on my own. Mission pretty much accomplished as we did a three hour hike that included climbing a mountain. Actually, the trail location was where we were for the Wednesday hike, but we did do a different approach for ascent and descent. It was a good walk!

Me and my fellow walkers. One of us did not speak German.

It was a pretty tough climb to the top, steep and took about 45 minutes. I was soaked and pretty much whupped when we took our first rest break. I reckon I have about 10 or 15 years on the next oldest in our group.

But from the top we enjoyed an outstanding view of downtown Olongapo City.

We came down the mountain and onto the beach for the walk back to Barretto.

But we did stop to enjoy some lunch first. That’s why I was wearing the backpack today. Had some apple with cheese slices and some celery with peanut butter.

As is the custom with the sausage walkers we ended our journey at Cheap Charlies where we imbibed some liquid refreshment.

That’s not the only walking I did today:

Me and Buddy did our regular jaunt through the neighborhood this morning. Ain’t he sweet?

Last night I played in the dart tourney and once again had the good fortune to finish first.

With my partner Flor. It was actually quite fun. My game is still inconsistent though. I’m going to try and find the motivation to practice more at home. We’ll see.

And that’s where things stand with me. Thanks for reading!

A diamond of a morning
Waked me an hour too soon;
Dawn had taken in the stars
And left the faint white moon.

–Sara Teasdale

Now while my lips are living
Their words must stay unsaid,
And will my soul remember
To speak when I am dead?

Yet if my soul remembered
You would not heed it, dear
For now you must not listen,
And then you could not hear.

Nothing like starting your day with a little Sara Teasdale, right?

Last night I made my return to the dart scene at Alley Cats after taking a break for over a month.

And despite the rust me and my partner Nancy managed a 1st Place finish…

Coincidentally, two years ago I also won a dart tourney…

…in Bangkok. It seems a lot longer ago than that, but I reckon Facebook doesn’t lie. Much.

Speaking of Facebook, one of the Sausage Walkers posted some more photos so I hope you will indulge me if I post them here.

Heading on up….

Posing for pictures at the summit…

I like this one because it captures my vape cloud nicely….

Preparing for our lunch break…

…then heading back down…

…to the beach…

…upon which we walked it on in to Cheap Charlie’s for some cold refreshing beers after our sweaty journey.

Life is good! Mostly.

I keep forgettin’ we’re not in love anymore
I keep forgettin’ things will never be the same again
I keep forgettin’ how you made that so clear
I keep forgettin’, darlin’

Today I made my debut with the Sausage Walkers. It’s a hiking group that meets every Wednesday. Kind of a spin off from the Hash, at least just about everybody I saw today was also a Hasher. None of the Hash rituals however and the trail isn’t mark, we march as a group which I personally like. No being alone on the mountain. It’s also nice to have new trails to hike as I’m sick and tired of my usual routes. Anyway, it was a good time. Didn’t take me photos as I didn’t want to slow down the group. But here’s a couple:

The newest sausage walker. Apparently the name comes from the fact that a former member used to prepare a sausage lunch for the group….

This is where we stopped for lunch today. Everyone brings there own. I wasn’t really prepared, but I did have an apple and cheese and some nuts….

A very long and steep climb to the top…this was the easy part…

But it was a beautiful day.

What else have I been up to? Well, yesterday I took Buddy with me on a beach walk.

He seemed to enjoy the new smells but definitely did not like the water!

I enjoyed a scenic sunset from my upstairs balcony…

The remains of the day….

And then headed out to give the floating bar at the Arizona resort a try. It was mostly nice except for the lady drink pressure…

Life is good.

It was good to be on trail again after a two week absence. I was actually hoping to Hash while I was in South Carolina but the timing didn’t work out. Oh well.

Yesterday’s trail was relatively easy in that there were no mountains to climb (and descend). Longish at almost 7K though and the weather was on the warm side. As usual I will let the photos do the talking…

The route we took. Finished “on-home” at Treasure Island….

Gathering up at Johansson’s.
Folks seemed glad to have me back. Leech my Nuggets also commented on my weight gain. Bastard.

Last minute instructions from the Hare, Anal Retentive.

And we are “on-on”. Yeah, that’s me taking a picture…

….while getting my picture taken.

A good portion of the trail was through the urban landscape…

…such as it is…

Surprise, surprise…the trail led through my subdivision again…in fact, that’s my house on the left…

….some countryside,,,

…and then a small village….

…a rather poor village…

And then back into the wild….

A horny Carabao in the tall grass…

I got my shoes wet at this stream crossing. Other folks took their shoes off first….

…or better yet got carried across…

a scenic scene…

The home stretch….

Down these narrow and uneven steps to the National Highway…where everyone else caught a Jeepney back. Not me! I walked alone the rest of the way, I’m no shortcutter!

Otherwise I would have missed this reminder of just how good I have it.

The Matain river in all her glory. Such as it is.

Not much else to report from the after Hash activities. I avoided the ice and chatted some with Jessa who was working last night. Not sure what happens next. Stay tuned!

…or half empty? Either way, I’m half way through my first year of life in the Philippines. It’s been a bit of a roller coaster ride so far but I’m making some needed changes in my outlook and I’m feeling much more positive about the future. It’s all about turning failures into opportunities, so I’ve got a lot of good material to work with!

No need to recap all the “trials, tribulations and adventures” I’ve blogged about this past six months. Yes, I’ve made a few mistakes and missteps but that happens when you are learning as you go I suppose. I did kind of fuck up in a new way Friday night though, here’s that story:

So I don’t do the girly bars all that much, but one of my favorites is Alaska bar. It used to be in Angeles City and was the first bar I visited on my first trip to the Philippines all those years ago. I usually buy drinks for Kim, one of the dancers there, on those occasions I do visit. Friday night I wasn’t alone however (that’s a story for another time) so I left Kim on stage. I’d been drinking all night in celebration of my return home so was feeling no pain. And after a few more beers at Alaska I asked the waitress to change a 500 peso bil into ten 50 peso notes.

At this point Kim was dancing on stage with two other girls. I went up and gave each of the other two a 50 peso tip, then sat back down. They both looked at Kim and then at me, and Kim was standing there with a WTF? look on her face. So, I get back up and give both of the other girls another 50 pesos then returned to my seat. Yeah, I know this sounds really fucked up. And yes, it was fucked up. But I was honestly doing it as a joke. Just teasing Kim. Yeah, looking back I can see it wasn’t very funny at all. Anyway, the “punchline” was for me to go back to the stage and say “Oops, I forgot someone” and give Kim a generous tip.

It didn’t work out that way. Kim was pissed. When I tried to hand her some money she refused to take it. I said, c’mon I was kidding around, but she told me “I don’t need your money!” I tried and tried but she wouldn’t budge. It’s a pretty big deal when a girl who makes maybe 300 pesos a day salary refuses a 150 peso tip. I sat back down, finished my beer and left. I was pretty embarrassed at this point.

Anyway, as I usually do I woke up in the middle of the night, sober now, and thought back on the incident at Alaska. And of course I felt like a jerk, all the more so because I had acted like one. Yes, it was not my intention to be demeaning and disrespectful, but that doesn’t change the fact that that is exactly what I was. I felt shitty about that and resolved to make amends. Last night I set about doing so.

I started with a few beers at Cheap Charlies and had a good time for a change. But I had a mission to undertake at Alaska bar so I headed on over. When I walked in the door Kim was on stage but wouldn’t look at me. I sat down and ordered a beer while she continued to ignore me. The other girls knew something was up and there was definitely some tension in the air. I called the waitress over and said I wanted to buy Kim a drink. Kim didn’t want it! Now, that is pretty much unheard of in the bar business. And then the mamasan (the manager of the dancers) intervened. I saw her talking to Kim and I’m sure she basically ordered her to drink with me, like it or not. So Kim very reluctantly joined me at my table.

As shitty as I had felt, I felt even worse now. So I dived into a heartfelt apology. I explained that it was my bad attempt at a joke but that I realized later how it must have made her feel. I told her how sorry I was to have treated her badly and that I would never have intentionally disrespected her that way. And then I pulled out my ace in the hole–some chocolate! I offered up a giant sized Kit Kat bar as a gesture of the sincerity of my apology. And ever so slowly the ice began to melt.

Kim told me that I had always been her favorite customer and that she had really been hurt by my behavior the previous night. She said she actually cried after I had left. Granted, that could all be bullshit but there is no question whatsoever that my behavior had truly hurt her feelings. I again told her that it was not my intent to make her feel bad, it was all just a joke that had gone wrong. I ordered up more drinks and we continued to talk. I learned more about her and it actually turned out to be a very nice evening. I gave her a 1000 peso tip (about $20 or one week’s salary) which of course made her night and we parted with our friendship intact.

I always try to treat the bargirls with respect. They have an incredibly difficult job and dealing with assholes makes it all the harder. My actions were totally out of line and out of character for me. It won’t happen again you can count on that! I came away with a new found respect for Kim as well. She had stood her ground admirably and made it clear that even though her body may be, her pride was not for sale. Keep on rockin’, Kim!

Another lesson learned. I’m confident I’m going to do the next six months better than I did these past ones. Onward!

“you must first accept that while there are things that have happened in your life that you had no say in, you are 100 percent responsible for what you do with your life in the aftermath of those events. Always, every time, no excuses.”
–Gary John Bishop “Unfuck Yourself”

“He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has.
–Epictetus

Made it! By my reckoning the trip took 32 hours door-to-door (19 hours in the air, 10 sitting in airports, and 3 hours drive time). Given the date line thing, I left on Wednesday morning and arrived on Friday morning.

The trip went with nary a hitch. Well, I was dozing in the Asiana lounge at Incheon when I was awakened by a pretty Korean woman in uniform. “Mr. McCrarey?” um yeah. “We have a problem.” Not exactly the words I wanted to wake up to. Apparently the problem was my business class seat was broken and there were no other business class seats available. She was very apologetic and told me they would give me a whole row of coach seats to myself and a $300 refund. Not like I had much choice but I told her that would be fine. She was relieved and asked if she could take a picture with me “for her boss”. Hell, I never could say no to a sexy Korean. Anyway, the epilogue to the story is that after I got to the gate and got my boarding pass changed I asked about my money. Was told it was being brought to the gate by a courier. Shortly thereafter an Asiana agent approached with the news that maintenance had repaired my seat so it all went back to the way it was before. That was fine by me.

I was a little bit nervous at customs in Clark airport because I had two heavy suitcases filled with not just dirty clothes but also the shitload of supplies I bought to carry me through another year in the Philippines. I never declare any goods and since they were all for personal use I’m not sure I have to. Still, when I saw them requiring everyone to open their bags while a customs officer took a look inside, I thought “oh shit”. As I got closer to the front of the line I observed that they were waving some folks on through, it appeared they were only checking bags carried by Koreans. Sure enough, the agent motioned me to keep on moving and with a sigh of relief that’s just what I did!

My driver Donny was waiting and my helper Tere and her friend Gina had come along for the ride. Got back home around 0400. Unpacked my bags, had a couple of beers, checked the internets, and then hit the sheets. Just as I was dozing off, I felt someone crawling into bed beside me. It was Gina! Guess I wasn’t as tired as I felt. I never could say no to an attractive Filipina.

Oh yeah, Buddy was happy to see me too. At first, he didn’t know what to do. I’m not sure he believed it was really me. When I first walked in the door, he looked at me, barked, and ran up the stairs. He came back down, looked at me again, had a sniff, then ran back up stairs. He ran back down, smelled me again, sneezed, and then was all over me. It was kind of sweet. He didn’t leave my side the rest of the night.

Me on the beach again!

Back into my regular routine this morning. Walked Buddy then did my Baloy Beach/Subic Town hike. Worked up a good sweat then came home and took a nap. Tonight I’ll head out to Alley Cats with my Pasalubong (candy for everyone!).

So, it’s good to be back. I’m trying on a new attitude in an effort to “unfuck myself”. My new book is providing some tips on keeping it that way. No excuses!

And of course, I’ll miss my family back home. They seem to be getting along just fine without me, and I’ll be back next year to see them all again.

The last supper on Tuesday night…

“Reject your sense of injury and the injury itself disappears”
–Marcus Aurelius