Lemon tree

I had another one of those out-loud conversations with myself in the wee hours of the morning. It went something like this:

Me: Am I alive or dead?

The voice in my head: Dead.

Me: So, is this place I’m in heaven or hell?

The voice in my head: Both.

I’m not sure what the takeaway from that exchange is supposed to be (other than evidence that I’m clinically insane), but there you have it. Nothing to do but keep on keepin’ on, so that’s my plan.

I had a good time at Hideaway last night, as evidenced by my bar tab of over 3000 pesos; I usually only spend a third of that amount. The difference was buying lady drinks for the other girls as well as Joy. I also splurged on the feeding, spending another 1200 on the giant tacos from The Coffee Shop restaurant. I guess I was just in one of those moods, and money doesn’t have much value unless you spend it. And I do enjoy buying those smiles.

Joy’s taco
Joy’s taco in Joy’s mouth
Mhel, one of the other girls I was buying drinks for. She’s older, and a little chunky but has a very sweet disposition.

After Hideaway, I paid a visit to Cheap Charlies. My regulars were otherwise occupied, but a couple of replacements were soon seated at my side. I didn’t stay long and don’t remember anything of significance, but that’s pretty much the story of this life I’m living.

My Fitbit stats say I went to sleep at 8:30 last night, which is early even by my low standards. Then I woke up at four in the morning and started talking to myself.

The Wednesday Walkers group did a relatively easy trek, mainly on the My Bitch trail. There were six of us all told, including a newcomer named Gen. Yeah, that Gen. She said she was tired at the end but seemed to enjoy herself. Welcome to the group!

The Wednesday Walkers
Our newest member was a little slow-moving, so I walked behind her to ensure she didn’t get lost.
I always enjoy a scenic hike.
The Easter mountain shot
This group was resting on their water gathering trip at a nearby creek
Ed spending some quality time with one of the kids we encountered
My mountain friend Olivia was busy dicing up some onions. She’s richer than I thought. I can’t even find onions in stock at Royal these days.
A dip in the path
Likely the only time I’ll see Gen going down
Marching onward
The view from here

And that was the hike.

Yeah, these past few days have been a good reminder of just how lucky I am. I think I’ve finally reached the “I don’t give a shit anymore” level of caring whether or not I have a significant other in my life. I guess you should never say never, but I ain’t gonna waste another minute worrying about it. My life is what it is, and I’ve already had more than my share of lemons.

When I was just a lad of ten, my father said to me,
"Come here and take a lesson from the lovely lemon tree."
"Don't put your faith in love, my boy", my father said to me,
"I fear you'll find that love is like the lovely lemon tree."

Lemon tree very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet
but the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat.
Lemon tree very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet
but the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat.

One day beneath the lemon tree, my love and I did lie
A girl so sweet that when she smiled the stars rose in the sky.
We passed that summer lost in love beneath the lemon tree
the music of her laughter hid my father's words from me:

Lemon tree very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet
but the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat.
Lemon tree very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet
but the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat.

One day she left without a word. She took away the sun.
And in the dark she left behind, I knew what she had done.
She'd left me for another, it's a common tale but true.
A sadder man but wiser now I sing these words to you:

Lemon tree very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet
but the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat.
Lemon tree very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet
but the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat.

A date that will live in infamy

There was nothing wrong with January 10, 2023, but the first date I experienced with Gen last night was a disaster. Yeah, the red flags had been firmly planted right in front of my eyes, but I proceeded with the scheduled date anyway. I’ve been around the block a few times and had more than my share of dates over the years, so when I call last night the worst date ever, it must have been bad.

I guess it could have been worse, though. We met for dinner a few minutes after the appointed time. Gen had said she was shy and wanted to bring a friend, but she showed up alone. In retrospect, if she had brought a friend, I might have had someone to talk to. So, a lukewarm greeting on the street, then up the stairs to John’s place. The restaurant was empty, so we took a seat in there. The waitress brought menus; I ordered a gin soda and asked Gen what she wanted to drink. No response other than a blank stare. Same thing happened when it came to ordering food. I wound up ordering for her…bulgogi and rice and some Korean chicken wings. I know she could speak because she got up and had a lengthy and animated conversation with the waitresses in Tagalog. I assumed she was inquiring about potential employment. When she returned, I asked if she wanted to go upstairs to eat because John was up there playing in a pool tournament. She just shrugged, so I said, “let’s go.”

Things weren’t any better upstairs; what little she said, most of it I couldn’t understand. Now granted, it was our first meeting in person, but we had chatted (in writing) numerous times, and she was reasonably articulate. So, I’m not sure why speaking to me was proving to be such a problem. It was incredibly frustrating to be subjected to her non-responsiveness and apparent disinterest in me or anything I had to say. And she certainly wasn’t initiating any chatter, at least with me. She talked with the upstairs waitress but didn’t share with me what it was about. She also spent time messaging someone on her phone, which seems extremely rude in the best circumstances.

When the food arrived, Gen ate the rice (of course) and picked at the bulgogi. Trying to discern whether she liked it or not and why was beyond my ability to interact. I got her to try a chicken wing, and she said it was “spicy.” At the end of the meal, about half of everything was left, and I asked if she wanted to bring it home in a take-out box. She just shook her head no. So, I told the waitress to take the leftovers.

Once we were back down on the street, she was asking about getting load for her phone and wanted me to help her find a place. I’d had enough and told her goodnight. She did seem surprised as I walked away. I offered to pay for a trike ride home for her, but she declined.

Later last night Gen messaged me that she had cried all the way home. That I wasn’t the nice guy she thought I was. And now she knows why I’m still single. Maybe she’s right.

There just seems to be something a little off-kilter about this girl.

I’m not afraid of love. Just like I’m not afraid of poison. I avoid both, because love is poison to me.

Ha! When I checked to make sure today’s post title hadn’t been used before, I saw that in October 2018, I had written about The date that will live in infamy, so since I’m using “A date” here, that’s unique enough. I had to laugh when I read that post again because, honestly, I’d forgotten all about Cherry. That date had ended with some passionate lovemaking, so it was much more satisfying than my date with Gen last night. Cherry broke up with ME the next day because she claimed to know I was having a relationship with my domestic helper (not true then or now). Looking back with all the wisdom (heh, yeah, I know) I’ve gained over the years, I’m pretty sure Cherry was a freelancer, and when I didn’t offer payment for her services, she dumped me. She actually did me a favor in doing so, I suppose.

EPILOGUE: I was surprised to get a message from Gen this morning asking about the hike and whether she could still attend. I truthfully told her that everyone was welcome on the hike. And sure enough, she arrived by Jeepney right at 0900. Once we got started, she told me she had never hiked before. Today’s version was relatively easy, with only an hour and a half on the trail. I walked her back down to the highway where she could catch a Jeepney home. She was much more friendly and conversant during the hike and, at one point, even held my arm. Where was that last night when it might have made a difference?

Just a few minutes ago, Gen messaged me to say that she was at John’s place to apply for a job, and she starts training tomorrow. Well, good for her. I hope it works out.

Pussyfooting around

Not much to say about yesterday’s Hash trail because I didn’t do much of it. The meetup was at Columban College (near Barretto High School, where the Friday group gathered last week), and so once again, I opted to take the shorter route through the hills to get there instead of doing a long-ass street walk or using a trike. I’m still uncomfortable being unaccompanied in the wild, but as a commenter here pointed out, there is danger in everything, so just man up and do it. I’m paraphrasing, but with the exercise of prudence and diligence, it is not inherently unsafe to hike alone.

Anyway, shortly after leaving the house, I realized that I had neglected to use my nebulizer before departing, as is my custom. My lungs ain’t what they used to be, and even a minor climb will often leave me feeling breathless. Well, shit. I didn’t have enough time to return home and still make it to the start, so I just pushed on. I always carry an inhaler in my pocket, so I took a couple of squirts from that and hoped for the best. Turns out Columban is exactly 1.25K from my house, and the one climb involved wasn’t a killer. So far, so good.

I headed out with the Hash group and went as far as the beginning of the first climb. I’d done it before, and it was not all that tough, but a voice in my head said, “are you sure you want to do this?” It turns out the answer was no. I told my fellow back-of-the-pack Hashers that I was going to keep it flat and I’d see them at the On-Home. I did around 5K before arriving at the Hare’s beer stop at McCoy’s on Baloy Beach. The Hare had arranged for a short banka boat bay tour, which was a nice break from the norm, although I declined to participate in that event as well (I didn’t want to wade out to the boat or take my shoes off). Yeah, I guess I was just in a lazy mood. I had a couple of beers at McCoy’s, then walked up the bach to Da’Kudos, this week’s Hash venue.

I didn’t take many photos, but here are some from others who did:

Seeing the trail map now, it probably wouldn’t have been a problem; after the first climb, mostly a stroll along My Bitch, then back down the way I had come up earlier on my hike to the start. Oh, well.
The gathering at Columban
Boarding the banka
Riding the banca
A view from the banca
Disembarking from the banca
My view from McCoy’s wasn’t as good as the ones from the boat.
The Hash circle at Da’Kudos
Hash Gash on ice
And the sun went down on another Hash Monday
We packed into It Doesn’t Matter for the post-Hash revelry.

I guess it is no real surprise that there are a few assholes in our group. And yes, I recognize that some of my fellow Hashers may consider me to be one. But generally, I don’t engage or interact with the jerks. Still, I encountered two at IDM last night. No big deal, I can handle it, even if I don’t much care to have my buzz killed by self-important losers like those two.

And on that note, I think it may be time for me to take a break. I’m leaning toward not Hashing next week at all. Maybe a little distance will improve my perspective.

What a party!

Let the good times roll! It’s good to have a change of scenery now and again, and what motivation for getting out of town is better than a party? I didn’t know what to expect and had no idea who else was on the guest list, but these doctor pals of mine know how to do it right. I was actually surprised that I knew as many of my fellow attendees as I did. Quite a few of us were patients of our hosts, and the rest were friends and acquaintances. Good food, cold beer, fun people, and beautiful beaches. We had it all yesterday.

The birthday girl, Dr. Jo
Jo’s hubby and partner, Chris, was also celebrating a January birthday.

The venue was Mope Beach Resort in San Narcisco, about an hour’s drive from Barretto. I’d been there once before with the Hash, but that was the day many of us were detained by the Philippine Navy, and so we didn’t get much time to, um, Mope. Really enjoyed soaking up the ambiance at this out-of-the-way venue.

Now, the entrance wasn’t too awe-inspiring, but then again, I spent less than five seconds walking through.
I’m a big fan of beach bars, and this one is outstanding
This pavilion was also a nice touch, although I didn’t get to hang out up there much as the party was in the main bar.
The view from upstairs
Me enjoying that view
The only problem with upstairs is that you eventually have to come down them. These were a little tricky when sober; I can imagine some painful scenarios occurring when inebriated.
Some beach-side seating
A view of said beach
And a view in the opposite direction
This isn’t on the Mope property, but I thought it’s coolness worthy of a photo.
They call it a “surf bar” for a reason. Boards are available for anyone inclined to ride the waves. In fact, several of the guests and the host Chris, spent a couple of hours on the water.
Dr. Jo performed surgery on the lunch meat and cheese appetizers plates
One of the guests I was surprised to see was John Brant. He doesn’t get out much these days because of advanced Parkinson’s disease, so it was great to spend some time with him. I first met John when I was a tourist who was a fan of his YouTube channel showing what life in Barretto was really like. He’s the one who also got me interested in the Hash.
A couple of female Hashers. The one on the right, JoAnn, is also my upstairs neighbor.
John “Wales,” JoAnn’s husband, was also there to enjoy the festivities.
My first plate of food. I went back for a hamburger patty and a second helping of that coleslaw.
Time was passing as the party rolled on.
A beautiful sunset
And then the sun was done.

And pretty much so was I. Said my thank yous and goodbyes and headed back to Barretto. On impulse, I had my driver drop me off at Snackbar so I could have a nightcap before heading home. That turned out to be a mistake. Lydell was there and completely ignored me, not even making eye contact. I mean, that’s okay, she made her feelings toward me quite clear, but I’m still a customer and deserve to be treated like one.

Now I wind up staring at an empty glass ’cause it’s so easy to say you’ll forget your past…

My pal Ron showed up, and the third waitress got around to serving us. Then we said, “fuck this,” and left. Looks like I’ve crossed another watering hole off my list of places to frequent.

Hasta la vista!

I didn’t let that ruin my day, though. It was a good one.

“Where are you hiding my love?
Each day without you will never come again.
Even today you missed a sunset on the ocean,
A silver shadow on yellow rocks I saved for you,
A squirrel that ran across the road,
A duck diving for dinner.
My God! There may be nothing left to show you
Save wounds and weariness
And hopes grown dead,
And wilted flowers I picked for you a lifetime ago,
Or feeble steps that cannot run to hold you,
Arms too tired to offer you to a roaring wind,
A face too wrinkled to feel the ocean's spray.”

--James Kavanaugh

Gifted again

I’m going to a birthday gathering today in San Narcisco.

That gives you an idea of where that municipality is located–about an hour’s drive north of me.

It’s the birthday of my physician, Dr. Jo, and an invitation for me to attend was sent via a message to my helper (my helper is a certified caregiver, and she’s the one who makes my appointments–she got invited too). I’ve never had any previous out-of-office socializing with my medical professionals, so it was a surprise to get the invite. I’ve only been to San Narcisco once before, it’s a nice beach town, so I’m looking forward to hanging out at Mope Resort with my doc and her friends this afternoon.

I’m regifting my wine, hoping Dr. Jo likes chocolate and bringing a batch of brownies.

Speaking of gifts, I was surprised when one of the Hideaway gals gave me a present last night. As for Dr. Jo’s birthday celebration, it seems like the perfect occasion to extend that warmth and generosity. Perhaps considering something unique, like custom hawaiian shirts, could be a charming idea. They’re not only a nod to the relaxed beach vibe of San Narcisco but also a fun way to add a touch of personality to the festivities. Plus, it could make for a memorable group photo with everyone sporting their own vibrant designs.

I guess the present could have been for anyone, but she gave it to me. Isn’t that sweet?
You are welcome, and thank you, Althea. I don’t buy her drinks, so I guess she is thanking me for the bi-weekly feedings.
The gift is this lighted scene featuring the “virgin” Mother Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus. This is definitely in the “it’s the thought that counts” category, but I’m sure I’ll have an opportunity to regift it one day.

I was at Hideaway last night to feed the girls because I’ll be out of town for the regular Sunday meal I provide.

Joy enjoying her Oreo cookie dessert.

My pal Ron had invited me out to McCoy’s on Baloy Beach for a full moon viewing, so I grabbed a trike after Hideaway and made my way to the beach bar. It was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday night, and I was especially happy about the lack of videoke singers squealers. I was disappointed that McCoy’s was without soda water, so I couldn’t stick to my gin. The bartender promised to order some for my next visit. They don’t have San Mig Zero beer either, so I was compelled to break diet and go with a San Miguel Light. Oh well.

The view from my stool.

Shortly after I arrived, Ron showed up with two other guys I’d never met, and the party was on. It wasn’t long before Ron’s friends wanted to barhop in Barretto, with Whiskey Girl being the first stop. I agreed to go along so I could get a squeeze from Jen, but I knew I wouldn’t be hitting any other bars; I was pretty much at my limit for the night.

I’d been intermittently chatting with Gen, and she’s heading back to Subic today. I guess I was too slow in responding to her messages, and she got upset. That unfurled a HUGE red flag in my mind. I told her I was in a crowded bar with friends and that it is rude to be on the phone when people are trying to converse with me. She said she was disappointed, which I find disappointing. I went back and checked this morning, and the longest gap between one of her messages and my response was fifteen fucking minutes.

So, today I’ve been thinking things over. First of all, I don’t really know this woman at all. Today she told me she wants to go to the Hash on Monday, and I told her that’s not a good idea. We have that whole virgin initiation thing, and I doubt she would find that fun. She wanted to get together tonight (I guess she’s not too shy to meet me without a chaperone now), but I have a party to attend. So, I reckon it will be Tuesday for the first in-person contact. Maybe it will be the last, as she says she will stay with her mother up north if she doesn’t find work here this week.

It seems to me that I’m always missing what I don’t have and think that I want. I guess a girlfriend has been at the top of that list for a while now. But damn, one thing I haven’t missed is the drama that seems part and parcel of a relationship. Just that little taste I had with Gen over message response times made me start thinking if this is something I really want to do. Let’s see if I can figure it all out before I fuck up. Again.

Maybe it just comes with the territory of being a man.

Here are the results from the Week 1 Weigh-In:

This week: 222.4

Last week: 225.3

Weight loss/gain: -2.9

Starting weight: 225.3

Goal: 195

SOBservient

The day started with a Friday group hike and ended with a dance competition. Try putting those bookends on your mantle!

The hike began quite a way from our usual meeting place at 7/11 on Baloy, which is just a few minutes walk from my house. This time we started at Barretto High School on Rizal Extension. I opted to take the most direct route, which means taking a path through the hills behind Alta Vista. That also required hiking it alone, which always makes me nervous because one slip, trip, or fall can have disastrous consequences if no one is around to assist you. I was extra cautious and completed the forty-minute trek without incident. And then the real fun began.

Our group headed up a path to Kalaklan ridge but didn’t go all the way to the top. Instead, we walked a trail midway up that paralleled Rizal Extension. It had been a while since I’d gone this way, and after the initial climb, it was quite pleasant. On the way back down some algae-covered steps, Scott slipped and came down hard. At first, he thought his ankle was broken, but thankfully that proved not to be the case. We took it slow the rest of the way down to the road, and he caught a trike home from there. Again, if that had happened when he was up there alone, he would have been screwed big time.

I’ll share photos from the hike at the end of this post.

Friday means attending the SOB dance competition, and this week the venue was Alaska Club. I left home around 4:00 p.m. to grab a bite to eat and be in line when the doors opened at 5:00.

The roast chicken salad at Mango’s hit the spot.

Everything went according to plan, and I was the first to sign up for the SOB, which allowed me to select a comfortable seat with a nice view. I was doing the gin and soda drinks, so I needed to pace myself. It seems like one drink every 30 minutes is about right.

As usual, I was asked to serve as a judge. No problem with that for me.

When things kicked off, the bar was packed. I guess we have a lot of tourists in town this week because several were doing the “two-week millionaire” routine. One guy was throwing cash on stage during the performance, which seemed a little rude to me. I mean, it’s fine when the girls are dancing for customers, but not so much during a competition. In my opinion, at least.

What was shocking to me was the amount of money the guy was tossing. I mean, I’ve seen lots of 20 peso notes, sometimes 50s, but never a 500 ($10) before. There are a couple of 100s there too. Anyway, the girls ignored the money until they completed their routine, then one of them picked it up and said, “thank you, sir.” Generous, indeed!

Another customer was throwing buckets of balls. I think I’ve mentioned this before. Some bars (including Alaska) have a small bucket of balls on the table. You can toss them to the girls for a 300 peso charge. The girls then scramble around, trying to pick up as many of the balls as possible. I understand they get 5 pesos for each ball they recover. I’ve never counted the number of balls in the bucket, but the bar obviously makes money on the toss as well. Anyhow, this guy kept throwing the buckets, seven or eight of them at least, so that adds up to a fair amount of money. I have just rarely seen the local expats engage in free spending like that.

That’s not to say that the expat community are all cheapskates, but most of us are more discreet in our giving. For example, I slipped each of the Alaska dancers (the ones not competing) a 50 peso note. Probably a better deal for them than scrambling around on the floor for a fuckin’ ping pong ball.

As is my custom, I picked one of the Alaska girls to be my companion during the show and rewarded her with lady drinks. This is Regina; my regular gal was “on leave,” which I assume means barfined. Regina played her role to my satisfaction.

By the time things wrapped up at 8:00 p.m. (Alaska took first), I was feeling no pain. That didn’t stop me from having a final drink at Queen Victoria before grabbing a trike for home.

Alaska, 1st Place
Voodoo, 2nd Place
Wet Spot, 3rd Place

That covers the alcoholic portion of my life; let’s do the walkaholic part now:

This shows the trail beginning and ending at my place, which it did for me.
Gathering up across the street from the high school
And we are off!
Marching up Rizal Extension
Contemplating the climb to come
Up we go!
There’s no easy way uphill, but I’ve had worse
That’s more to my liking
We did not get lost like we did on Wednesday, but things didn’t go exactly according to plan either.
Um, what happened to the trail? It was here a minute ago.
Okay, everyone, spread out and search the area
Back on the trail, such as it is
Some dreams die
That would be an interesting lifestyle. Actually, I plan to put something like this on the lot at my future blue house as a room for one of my helpers.
This shelter was constructed recently (at least it wasn’t here the last time we came this way)—no idea who uses it way out here in the middle of nowhere.
There’s Scott shortly before the fall…
…and shortly after the fall. Glad it wasn’t worse.
Four bowsers
After Scott got down and headed home, the rest of us continued on and took the My Bitch trail back to Alta Vista
What’s everybody looking at?
Just paying our respects to Easter mountain
Another shelter for the weary
Homeward bound
Started with seven and finished with five (Almoranus bailed when we passed near his house)

And that’s the way the day went. Scott says he has some pain and swelling in the ankle, but it looks like nothing time won’t heal.

And now, it is time to shower up and discover what Saturday night has planned for me.

Raindrops in the morning

Yesterday started out wet, which is surprising for this time of year. No worries, though; the raindrops weren’t falling on my head. I carried an umbrella on my morning walk. Because of the damp conditions, I opted out of my standard Thursday trek and improvised a paved stroll through barangay Matain on the Subic side of the river.

The way it looked from above. That green dot is my current residence (and where the hike commenced) the blue dot to the left is my future blue house.

Carrying an umbrella and using the phone camera don’t work well for me. I did manage two shots from the walk.

This lovely river view…
…and the serenity of the Subic bay. Pay no heed to the litter in the foreground; it goes with the territory.

I had a burger patty (with a cheese slice and ketchup) for breakfast. No lunch again, but I alleviated the hunger pangs with some walnuts and a cheese stick.

Sticking with the plan, so far, at least.

When bar o’clock rolled around, I made my way to It Doesn’t Matter and enjoyed my first gin and soda of the day. In fact, I enjoyed it so much I had another. Although skipping the lunch meal is a big part of my calorie reduction strategy, drinking on an empty stomach is not a great option (you tend to get drunk quicker). So, it was an easy decision to decide to find something for dinner. What and where were the questions I needed to resolve.

Maybe so, but all I’ve got at the moment is me. And I decided to treat myself like I’m somebody special since no one else does.

And there was my answer: the best food in town for the best person I can be–John’s Sushi and Steak was my destination. I hoofed it to the other side of town and considered the menu options. I love the sandwiches, but bread and fries are carbs I need to avoid (along with beer, of course). And then I thought, John has the best steaks in town; why not get one of those? Yeah, they’re pricey, but I’m worth it.

Turns out, John was running a promo. Now, twenty bucks still seems like a lot to me, but you only live once.
Dinner is served. It was delicious; what little of it there was. Of course, the marbled potatoes aren’t something I should eat, but I couldn’t resist trying a few anyway. Yum. And the coleslaw side was excellent as well.
Medium rare, very juicy, and very tender. The ad was right; I didn’t need a steak knife.

And now, what about dessert? Well, I had another SOB coupon to use. This one was good for all the local drinks you could consume in a consecutive three-hour period for only 500 pesos. I did the math and determined that I would need four gin and sodas to get my money’s worth. The three hours weren’t going to be a problem, but would I still be standing after sucking down so much hard liquor (I really am a beer man at heart)? Only one way to find out, and I decided to make my voyage of discovery at Whiskey Girl in the comforting company of my favorite waitress there, Jen. (Yeah, I sure do seem to have a lot of Gin/Gen/Jen in my life these days).

Four (or was it five?) drinks later, I was feeling no pain. I’d bought a slew of lady drinks for Jen, and she was happily snuggled up next to me on our cushioned bench along the wall. I was tempted to go the barfine route with her, but I’ll save that experience for a more sober time.

Heh. Maybe I’ve been right in my approach all along.

I’m kidding. I think. I guess I’m just in a que será, se​rá mode. Still chatting with Gen every day, and I expect we’ll be meeting up next week. She wants to watch me eat balut for the first time. We’ll see what happens after that. I’ve got six months to fill…

Sometimes you’re the windshield…

…sometimes you’re the bug.

Just like every other day.

I had a 15% discount coupon for Sit-n-Bull due to expire soon, so I decided to splurge a bit on the Wednesday feeding at Hideaway. Lasagna for Joy, tacos, chicken wings, chicken fingers, and lumpia for the rest of the crew. Even with the discount, it came to over 1600 pesos ($30). Still, I often spend that much on myself during a night out, so I’ll revel in the feeling good from seeing those smiling faces.

Joy couldn’t resist one of the tacos.
But she still enjoyed her lasagna.

I stayed at Hideaway a little longer than usual and played Joy in pool again. This time I won! That’s surprising because she is a good shot. I still had four balls on the table when Joy missed the winning shot at the 8-ball, then I ran the table for the victory. As they say, it is better to be lucky than good.

Walking up the highway after Hideaway, I decided to pay a rare visit to Blue Butterfly for my nightcap before heading home. I was surprised to be warmly greeted by Tanya, who used to come to the Hash occasionally. Naturally, I invited her to join me for a drink at my table. Another waitress approached and greeted me by name. She was vaguely familiar looking, but I’ll be damned if I have a clue as to who she is. I bought her a drink as well. Then a vendor came by selling balut (fertilized duck eggs), so I got some for the girls to enjoy.

Sucking it out. That’s one Filipino delicacy I have no interest in trying. Reminds me of an aborted fetus for some reason.
Maybe that’s the reason. (this photo is from the Wiki link above)

I had a couple of drinks, then Tanya hailed a trike for me, and it took my drunk ass home. I’m still looking for the sweet spot when I’m drinking gin and sodas.

I’m doing okay on my informal diet plan so far, I think. I had a few strips of bacon before my hike, an orange, and some seaweed chips as a snack after the hike, and then limited myself to two small tacos (one corn shell, on soft) for dinner. And no beers. I won’t know until I do my weekly weigh-in on Sunday if going without is making a difference.

Ya gotta do what ya gotta do

In the morning hours, I was huffing and puffing with the Wednesday Walkers group out Subic way. The thing about the Wednesday/Friday hikes is that we have a general idea in mind but no actual trail like at the Hash. Sometimes that leads to adventure. Yesterday, we got stymied multiple times by deadends as we searched in vain for a path down off the mountain that used to be there (we did it over a year ago), but it is apparently so little used that the jungle vines have overgrown it. We eventually retreated and took another path down, and it turned out fine—all part of the fun. I reckon even Lewis and Clark had some deadheads when they ventured out west. Not that I’m comparing our group to theirs–we don’t have anyone like Pocohantus to guide us.

Here are some photos from our quest:

Walk this way! You can see our unsuccessful probes up the mountain before admitting defeat and coming back down.
The adventure began with a Jeepney ride to Subic town
Me in the Jeep
Out of the Jeep
Over the river
Heading for the hills
Scott and I had Hared a Hash trail out this way some time ago, but things change.
The pavement ended but not our climb
A homemade landfill
Here comes that old, fat, slow guy
It’s a jungle out there
But the views are nice
Subic town and the Keppel shipyard down below
Goats on a rope
A life of isolation for this resident
But at least he has that hot calendar for those lonely nights
Heading for trouble
You can’t get there from here. Apparently.
Giving up and turning around
This trail ought to get us there. It did. Eventually.
This farm family let us shortcut through their place. I gave some cookies as a thank you.
Heading through the crops on the way to the road
One final obstacle. Damn, I can’t believe the belly on that guy.
Over the river again
Boarding the Jeepney
Homeward bound

Things don’t always go as planned, but that means it doesn’t get boring. I’d call that a good day!

Another interesting chat with Gen today, but I’ll need to process my thinking a little clearer before I can decide what exactly I’m feeling. If anything.

Not so fast, Bozo!

Stay tuned!

Well it's a strange old game you learn it slow
One step forward and it's back you go
You're standing on the throttle
You're standing on the brake
In the groove 'til you make a mistake

Sometimes you're the windshield
Sometimes you're the bug
Sometimes it all comes together baby
Sometimes you're just a fool in love
Sometimes you're the Louisville Slugger
Sometimes you're the ball
Sometimes it all comes together
Sometimes you're gonna lose it all

You gotta know happy - you gotta know glad
Because you're gonna know lonely
And you're gonna know sad
When you're rippin' and you're ridin'
And you're coming on strong
You start slippin' and slidin'
And it all goes wrong because

Sometimes you're the windshield
Sometimes you're the bug
Sometimes it all comes together baby
Sometimes you're just a fool in love
Sometimes you're the Louisville Slugger
Sometimes you're the ball
Sometimes it all comes together
Sometimes you're gonna lose it all

One day you got the glory and then you got none
One day you're a diamond and then you're a stone
Everything can change in the blink of an eye
So let the good times roll before we say goodbye because

Sometimes you're the windshield
Sometimes you're the bug
Sometimes it all comes together baby
Sometimes you're just a fool in love
Sometimes you're the Louisville Slugger
Sometimes you're the ball
Sometimes it all comes together
Sometimes you're gonna lose it all

Sometimes you're the windshield
Sometimes you're the bug
Sometimes it all comes together baby
Sometimes you're just a fool in love

A third is better than nothing

Took care of some business yesterday, including getting a 60-day extension on my tourist visa. My very tentative thinking is that between now and March 5, when I’m due to renew, I’ll take a trip out of the country, perhaps to Vietnam. We’ll see. I’ll be going to the mountain city of Baguio next month to participate in the La Union Hash Valentine’s run. I’ve been there twice before and enjoyed it. And I also want to plan a trip to Bohol sometime this month. It’s been at the top of my list of places I want to see in the Philippines since before the scamdemic. No more excuses now.

My shopping trip to Royal went without incident. The five sale items in my cart all rang up with the appropriate discount. I’ll keep watching, though.

One of the deals I couldn’t resist was shredded cheese at a reasonable price.
The picture is crap, but I think you can still make out the price of that turkey breast meat. Over a hundred bucks for 5kgs of turkey. Nope!

I felt like crap all day, low energy, and lethargic. Took two naps without much result. Got out the thermometer and saw I was running a low-grade fever of 38.1C. Popped a couple of aspirins and got on with my life.

Well, I’m on a beer hiatus these days, but me and my old friend Gin have been mixing it up with soda water and getting along just fine.

The only issue with my new drinking routine is that it costs me twice as much because my method is one shot of gin in a tall glass and a whole can of soda water to add to the mix. It’s worth it because it allows me to both reduce the strength of my drink and slows the rate of consumption some. I had a coupon for Green Room that gave me two free drinks if I bought a lady drink, so I actually saved money on that deal.

After Green Room, I crossed the highway and checked my barber and was actually able to take a chair!

I hadn’t had a haircut since last year!

A couple more drinks at IDM, three at Cheap Charlies, and a nightcap at Voodoo. I wasn’t drunk, and it wasn’t even 8:00 yet, but I’d had enough, so I called it a night.

It’s probably too early to call this significant news, but I have been chatting with a woman I “met” on Facebook. An interesting gal who seems smart and witty. She also told me she likes to hike. I’m intrigued and want to learn more.

Her name is Gen which is kinda funny, given my new drinking routine. Thirty-two years old and lives in Subic. We haven’t met yet because she’s been with family in Baguio for the holidays. She plans to be back next week, and I’ve promised her a dinner date.

Gen is studying Korean because she hopes to find work there as an OFW. That would be consistent with my luck–I moved to the Philippines from Korea to find a woman, meet her, and then she moves to Korea. But that’s getting way ahead of myself. She did offer to be my tutor if I wanted to learn Tagalog.

We had a funny exchange in our chat last night. She asked me where I was, and I truthfully answered, “It Doesn’t Matter.” She responded, “okay, sorry to have asked.” I was laughing at her reaction and sent her this picture:

I guess Gen still didn’t get it because she wrote, “maybe it is better if you just say it’s none of my business.” Alright, I explained again that it was the name of the bar I was at, and I thought it was funny how she reacted. She finally understood and said it was funny but also reiterated that she didn’t mean to intrude on my privacy; she was just checking in on me. A bit of a red flag, perhaps, but we moved on and continued a pleasant chat throughout the evening.

Anyway, I’m looking forward to learning more about Gen when we meet in person next week.

Facebook memories showed me in action at a dart tourney in Itaewon way back in 2012. I was a big man in the darts community back in those days. Lost some of the weight and a lot of the passion for the game.

Speaking of Facebook and the passage of time, I shared this on my page:

I thought it was kinda funny in a sad way, but my old friend Jeremy left this comment:

Yeah. People say shit that they don’t mean all the time, especially when they’re drunk, high, or otherwise intoxicated. Of course, in the first several months of any relationship, the love chemical, oxytocin, that the body produces is going to be in excess. Hence, the expression ‘drunk in love’. In fact, researchers have found that oxytocin make lovers feel positive drunk-like effects such as being relaxed, happy, and more confident as well as the negative effects such as aggression, jealousy, and arrogance.

However, this is necessary for the human propagation as a species. If we didnt have oxytocin, then we’d probably never mate (willingly). It just happens that many, especially the young (or inexperienced) don’t understand the thoughts and feelings that accompany the increase in oxytocin, so they say stupid shit like the above. To avoid having negative thoughts about the people who say such nonsense, it’s good to understand that they’re voicing an inebriated fantasy rather than making a sober, analyzed decision. This will make it hurt less IF forever doesn’t last until death did you part.

That sounds more cynical than even I’ve become, although I guess the “inebriated fantasy” is a shoe that might fit me. I tried to lighten the mood by asking, “Do you need a prescription for oxytocin? I could use some right about now.” It didn’t work:

you can get a prescription for oxytocin. However, studies suggest that it might be bad for those suffering from anxiety and depression, but you can also increase it naturally by physical touch (doesn’t need to be sexual, but it can result from masturbation), social interaction, massages, petting animals… basically, being generally happy. However, alcohol isn’t conducive to happiness from the standpoint of the physical body. You might feel good due to the inebriation, but it increases cortisol, a stress hormone, anxiety, depression, etc.

The exercise that you do (long hikes) is great for increasing your oxytocin levels, but all your gains are nullified by all of the alcohol consumption, both from a physical and mental standpoint.

All I could say to that was, “oh well, I guess I’m doomed.”

I do have some love in my life; they even like to take a morning walk with me.

My good Buddy and my Lucky boy
And all of our walks have a portion where I free them from the leash (no houses, no cars). It’s their favorite part!

And that’s about all I’ve got for today’s post about the third.

Life is for learning!

Lows and highs

From the beaches, to the mountains
On the highways filled with cars
God bless the Subic Hash
Where we walk so far...

Okay, it needs a little work, but it just came to me as I sat down to write this post. Sue me.

Yesterday was a nice mix of terrain and paths that we have not recently walked. The beach was packed with more locals than I recall seeing enjoying the sea and sand, but the New Year’s holiday wasn’t quite over (a three-day weekend). The climb up Kalaklan was a killer, or it could have been the way I was breathing, but here I am to tell the tale. The trail started and ended at It Doesn’t Matter. I limited myself to one beefy taco, and it was surprisingly good for pub fare. The Hash is my cheat day for beer, and I took full advantage, sticking around for a few more when the circle was done.

The trails that were walked by various elements of the Hash. Purple was the long trail prepared by the Hares, yellow is a shorter version provided by the Hares, and green is the way those who didn’t want a hard climb chose to go. Freedom baby!
Where it all began. And ended.
And we are On-On!
Up this alley to the beach
On the beach
Walking the shoreline
Hashers adding to the crowd
A thankfully short jaunt on the National Highway
Then up Abra Street
And then a seemingly endless stairway.
I was very tired at this point.
The view didn’t take my breath away, but the climb did.
Fuck Buddy seems to be waiting for someone
And here comes Buddy Fucker
Yeah, people live up here. I couldn’t handle the commute on a daily basis. I’d need a girlfriend for sure: “go down and get me some beer!”
The path we walked
What’s that bear doing in the woods? Oh, wait. That’s What’s Up Doc.
Another mountain family in need of cookies, or as the locals say, “biscuits.”
And, of course, my regular kids somehow knew I was on the way, and they were lined up waiting patiently when I arrived.
I’ll take that as a sign that we are on the right path
“Where are you going?” “It Doesn’t Matter.” Fine, be that way!
Blow My Pipe and Demolition Derby at IDM before the circle. The cute waitress is Juliet.
Circle up!
Pubic Head was “honored” with the Hashit.

And that was the ups and downs of yesterday’s Hash.

I’m trying to up my daily step count as I fight the battle of the bulge. In that regard, I have lengthened my dog walk routes some. I also took a morning stroll through the neighborhood.

That’s 3K, baby!

I also enjoyed taking a peak into the future from various perspectives.

Way up yonder is where I should be laying my head one of these days.
Looking forward to living on high with an unobstructed view
By neighborhood standards, it’s a small house, but plenty big enough for me and my entourage
It doesn’t appear much progress has been made on the room addition, but I’m confident they are motivated to get it done.
I’ll be happy to tell folks I live at the bottom of Grand Canyon (street)
And I will never get tired of this view.

That’s how I spent my sloppy seconds. It just keeps getting better and better.

Until it doesn’t.

The best day of the year

Okay, so what if it was the only day of the year so far? It was still the best one.

Started out with my Standard Solitary Sunday Stroll, watched the sun go down from Baloy Beach, and finished my evening in the company of a beautiful young woman. Then I went home alone. Let’s go back in time in reverse chronological order.

That’s me passed out drunk on the floor when I got home. Oh, wait. That’s Buddy having some sweet dreams.
Back on the gin and soda water for the foreseeable future. They don’t call it a beer belly for nothin’
And that’s sweet Jenn, one of the Snackbar girls. When I teasingly suggested that I might consider hiring her for my girlfriend vacancy, she revealed how much she makes on an average night. Wow! Those lady drink commissions do add up. Perhaps I can’t compete in the marketplace after all.
Oh, but I would if I could! Jenn is really good at her job.

My buddy Ron messaged me with an invite to join him at McCoy’s on Baloy. A change of scenery is a good thing now and then, and I hadn’t been there since last year (damn, that line never gets old, does it?).

Boys on the beach
The view from our hut
Lots of folks spending their New Year’s holiday at the beach
Look to the right, and you can watch the sun going down
Look to the left, and you can see a rainbow.
Look straight ahead, and you can see the sparkling water in Subic Bay. Sorry if that ass is blocking the view.
The best sunset of the year, for sure!

Nothing special about the morning hike, although I hadn’t walked that far since last year. (okay, I’ll stop now. Promise!)

7.5 Kilometers on very familiar ground

I decided to take a photograph of the different roads and paths I walked along the way. Warning: these are pretty boring.

Leaving the house on my street, Shenandoah Bend
Taking the pathway out of Alta Vista
The old dirt road
A different dirt road
Pavement in San Isidro
Another no-name street
Up the alley
Bridge #2
Finally! A road I know the name of–Sawmill
Thank you!
The Govic Highway
Sierra Hills subdivision
And the Santa Monica subdivision
Crossing the river on the National Highway
A road that ends in the squatter village
In said village
The road to Alta Vista
In Alta Vista
The shortcut to my street
And finally, back on my street again.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you! Actually, it’s a little more pleasant on Relive, so have at it if you are a glutton for punishment.

https://www.relive.cc/view/vrqo3LgyKyq

Yesterday was also the fifth anniversary of the beginning of my Hash career. I was visiting from Korea in preparation for my planned move five months later. Here are some photos from that historic event:

Loaded up in the long gone Hashmobile. As much as I hated riding back there, I do miss having transport to the trailhead.
My first On-On!
It was a tough trail (I don’t remember who the Hare was). I thought the last descent was going to kill me. I wound up sliding down on my ass.
Losing my virginity at the Hash circle. That’s Gem next to me, a girl I met from Manila on a dating site. She scammed me for a thousand dollars and then disappeared a few months after I moved here. One of those expensive lessons I hope I’ve learned.
“What doesn’t go in you, goes on you. Just like a blowjob.” I recall I managed to drink it all down in one go, so I stayed dry.

Good times.

And finally, I mentioned in an earlier post about being impressed by a Queen Vic dancer named Irish. The SOB sponsor has some pictures up, and I wanted to share a couple of her in action.

That’s Irish up front putting on the moves.
And then she transformed into a gymnast
Transitioning to the splits. Her other lips were down on the floor a couple of seconds later. I think she’d be a great top!

So, that’s how my year started out. Here’s to keeping all that positive momentum going!

Out with the old…

…and in with the new. Well, the year didn’t end with a bang (I went home alone as usual), but by my low standards, it was a nice last night on the roller coaster called 2022.

Let me extend to my readers my sincere best wishes for a happy and healthy New Year. May all your dreams come true in 2023!

Here’s how I ended the year. I needed a cash infusion, so I walked the 6K to the ATM in Subic town. After waiting in line, the first machine was out of cash, so I got in line for the second. I settled for 10,000 pesos (rather than the 20,000 I prefer) the machine was willing to dispense. Hopefully, that will get me through the weekend, but I burned through a lot of cash last night.

Just how did I spend over $100 in a single night? Glad you asked! It started with the feeding at Hideaway Bar. Seeing as how it was the night we celebrate the passing of a year, I wanted to do something a little out of the ordinary food-wise. So, I went to the Jewel cafe and ordered an eclectic mix of food items: spaghetti and meatballs, pork chops, pork sisig, and fried chicken. I also brought along the chocolate cake I’d baked at home. The gals loved the food, and caught up in the spirit of the moment, I rang the bell, thereby purchasing a lady drink for all the crew. Happy New Year!

Joy devours whatever it is that she is eating.

Joy also gave me a homemade New Year’s card, which was a first for me.

Gwapo is my nickname at Hideaway, going back to the days when Jessa worked there. It’s Tagalog for “handsome”–hey, if the moniker fits, wear it!
The outside of the card. Ain’t that sweet?
Nicely done! I was actually quite touched by the message. And oh yeah, “bitches” is my nickname for the girls…i.e., “get the bitch a drink!”

I played a game of pool for the first time in forever and lost as usual. I was impressed with how well Joy plays, though. I guess it comes with working in a bar.

When I departed Hideaway, I planned on dropping in at Blue Butterfly, but as I approached, I changed my mind and walked on by. Instead, I climbed the stairs to Cheap Charlies and spent some time with one of my favorites there, Maya.

I fed her lady drinks, and she pretended to find whatever I talked about interesting.

I actually told Maya about my idea of hiring a girlfriend, and she seemed to think it was doable. I asked her if there was anyone in the bar she’d recommend, and she didn’t hesitate before answering, “no.” Anyway, I’m only half serious about the concept, but I’m keeping my options open.

I had intended to go to Whiskey Girl as my next stop but was surprised to discover they were closed on a Saturday night and New Year’s Eve to boot. Then I looked across the street and saw that Queen Victoria was also closed. New Year’s here is not a party day but a family day, and I guess all the girls want to be home with loved ones–to hell with their favorite customers! Heh, I don’t blame them.

So, I was out of options. And Snackbar is conveniently located next to the nearest trike stand, so that’s where I went to continue my holiday beer-drinking revelry. They had a party going on, that’s for sure. Jenn joined me for drinks; then I bought some for my other old favorites (Lydell wasn’t working). The owner greeted me warmly, and it felt *almost* like old times.

I hadn’t been there since the aborted Christmas party, so I was presented the gift I had walked out on:

A new wallet! A timely gift, for sure, as my old wallet was beginning to come apart at the seams. Thank you, ma’am Paula.
I was also presented with a lovely 2023 Snackbar calendar. Thanks again!

There was a raffle, and my ticket was drawn for this:

A bottle of red wine. I’m no connoisseur, but I seem to recall Carlo Rossi being a respected brand.

So, I wound up staying past my bedtime, but not so late that I couldn’t be safe and sound asleep in my bed at midnight. Probably a good thing; when I woke a little after one to pee, I could still hear the celebration noises outside.

Well, it’s a new year, and I’ll try and find new vices.

So, here we are on day one of the new year, or more aptly perhaps, the first day of the rest of my life. And one of my goals is to extend that life long enough to continue to enjoy as many New Year’s celebrations as possible. To that end, I’ve resolved to focus more on my health and, hopefully, find fixes for my two major issues–chronic sinus congestion and my COPD. I suspect the two may be related. The lungs are especially concerning–these past couple of nights; I’ve experienced shortness of breath while simply walking between bars. That’s reminiscent of my pre-diagnosis days, and I’m worried that my condition may be getting worse. So, I’ll be making an appointment with my doctor for a consultation and referral for tests/X-rays to find out what is going on.

I bought this spirometer to monitor my lung capacity on an ongoing basis.
And I’ve upgraded my nebulizer that lately I’ve been using three times a day.

My other resolution is to exercise some self-discipline. I don’t think it is any secret that I’ve totally let myself go. I hadn’t even bothered to step on the scale for months before I did this morning. I’ve seen the pictures, and my beer belly is ridiculous. But it is not just the beer. After a night of drinking, I go home and gorge myself on ice cream and other sweet treats. I don’t want to go back to where I was as a morbidly obese man weighing 270 pounds. That brings with it a whole other host of potential health problems. I actually wonder if my breathing may be impacted by the extra pounds as well.

Anyway, self-discipline will start at the grocery store–I’m not going to purchase items that are going to tempt me to go off-diet. And I’m giving up the beer for a while, although Monday’s Hash will be a cheat day out of necessity (it’s all that is offered). Now, I’m not saying I’m giving up drinking; I’m just going back to my gin and soda days and the low-carb lifestyle. I’ll eat and drink more responsibly and do an informal intermittent fasting routine.

So, I’ll be weighing in every Sunday morning until I achieve my weight reduction goal (or die trying). My target is 195. Today the scale told me I weigh 225.3 pounds. Yeah, Wow, I was surprised I was that far gone too. How long will it take to lose 30 pounds? I guess we are about to find out.

Here’s my message for 2023: Bring it on, bitch! I’m going to make this life I’m living the best it can be. Let’s see how that works out for me.