A little Rein in my day

No real surprises at the ENT doctor visit yesterday. Put the scope up my nose, shook his head with a tsk tsk sound, and said the blockage was stage four–complete. He prescribed some steroid medication which might result in some shrinkage, but surgery to remove the polyps is really the only option.

So, we discussed what was involved in getting the surgical procedure. Dr. Tolentino confirmed that I would have to be completely anesthetized during the operation. I would also have to be admitted to St. Jude’s hospital for an overnight stay after the surgery.

That's St. Jude's on the right.  A very small hospital but it has a decent reputation.
That’s St. Judes on the right. Very small for a hospital, but it has a good reputation.

Doctor Tolentino won’t be available for two weeks, and in the interim, I’m supposed to get cleared by a cardiologist that I can safely undergo the procedure. I’m still not comfortable with the idea of being put to sleep, especially with my COPD issues. I’m also not wanting to be confined to a hospital room overnight. I’m considering a third opinion from the highly rated Clark Medical City in Angeles. I’m also toying with the idea of leaving the country for the surgery. Stay tuned.

Like a good ENT, Dr. Tolentino checked my ears and throat during my visit. He removed a clump of wax from my right ear that was as big as a fingernail. Hmm, maybe that was causing my deafness.

Another doctor at the clinic I visited. Based on her name, I imagine amputation is her favorite procedure. I hope she doesn’t lose her head during surgery.

After the doctor’s visit, I took a trip to Seoul. That’s my favorite Korean restaurant in these parts, located on the old Navy base.

My driver, Danny, and my helper, Teri, along with Mary, who had asked to come along for the ride to the doctor, joined me for the meal.
The side dishes.
The meat on the grill
And my bulgogi stew. Yum!

When we got back home, I took a nap, and Mary joined me. That was nice. Later in the afternoon, we walked to Baloy beach and visited the floating bar. I stuck with my beer diet, and Mary experimented with different mixed drinks, gin and soda, and then a margarita.

Some of the crew on the floating bar. Not very many customers yesterday, but lots of girls. Seems they have been doing some hiring since my last visit.

I didn’t actually enjoy this visit to the floater as much as I had previously. They were blaring the music so loud I couldn’t even hear Mary talking right next to me. I asked them to turn it down some, which they did, but I noticed the volume increased little by little as time went on. I had two beers and headed for shore.

Next stop, Johan’s. Mary continued her drink smorgasbord with a Tom Collins and then a Bloody Mary. She said she had never had a Bloody Mary before, and I challenged her, saying she has one monthly. Yeah, I’m a funny guy. Mary was surprised at how spicy it was and needed a bottle of water to stop the burning in her mouth.

When it was time to move on, we took a stroll down the beach to McCoy’s. I ordered her an apple beer while she was in the CR, and she was surprised because it was just what she wanted. Well, it had to be better than the Bloody Mary, and McCoy’s doesn’t serve mixed drinks, so it was an easy call.

We were able to enjoy the sunset from McCoy’s before the dreaded, but inevitable, videoke singing started. That’s always a good sign for me that it is time to go.

I put Mary in a trike for home, but I wasn’t through just yet. That’s one of the benefits of beer consumption; my staying power is elongated. I popped into Snackbar for a couple of drinks with my old bargirl friends, including Lydell. She had seen me walking earlier with Mary but only asked about the floating bar. Yep, I’m proudly flaunting my player reputation these days!

I still wasn’t quite ready to call it a night, and I had a “buy one, get one coupon” to exploit before its expiration, so I made a rare visit to Queen Victoria, the nearest SOB bar to my current location. And that’s where I met Rein. Well, I had met her before. She briefly worked at the old Dive In Bar, which is now Hideaway. She had also been involved in the ill-fated Posiden bar in Calapadayan that was out of business after a few months. Anyway, I had a great time getting reacquainted with her; she’s quite the conversationalist.

Or maybe I was just drunk. It was nice, though. Rein hasn’t accepted my FB friend request, so that might be a good indication of a lack of mutual interest–“I may be your destiny, but you’re not my gonna be.”

Two beers, two lady drinks, then home safe and sound.

Speaking of Facebook, Nerissa from Cheap Charlies sent me a new friend request, and I accepted it. Of course, it’s a little too little and a little too late. Happy to be her friend again and feel comfortable returning to Cheap Charlies occasionally, but she has shown me a side of her character that foretells the drama that would come with a relationship. No, thank you! Or maybe I should thank her for teaching me to embrace being the player she thought I was.

And the Facebook memories feature reminded me just how damn happy I was to be living the Itaewon life back in 2006.

At least I eventually gave up the tobacco. Although the damage was already done.

But things can certainly always be worse.

That car from Wednesday night’s accident was still on the street this morning. Lots of damage. And when I looked inside, I saw the driver’s airbag had deployed. When I returned later from my Friday hike, a tow truck had finally arrived.

Speaking of accidents, there was a bad one this morning on the National Highway in downtown Barretto. I didn’t witness it, but someone sent me a video, and it was pretty gruesome. I understand the bus driver was killed, and many passengers in the Jeepney were severely injured.

So, the stupid bus driver (may he rest in peace) attempted to pass on the wrong side of the busy highway and collided with the Jeepney head-on.
That’s always my nightmare when I’m riding in a Jeepney. I try and turn off my imagination to all that could possibly go wrong.
Here’s the video of the aftermath. Be warned; it’s bloody!

Alright, well, let me leave you with something to cleanse your palate before I go. This is a children’s video, and it is hilarious when viewed in context.

Just over a minute long, but you’ll get the gist in the first 30 seconds or so.

The punchline is the definition of “Pekpek” in Tagalog.

I guess that’s about enough for one day’s reading here at LTG. I’m skipping the SOB tonight and escorting Mary on her continued journey of exploration in the bars of Barretto. We’ll start the night in Sloppy Joe’s and take it from there. Back tomorrow with a full report.

The day in pictures

I have a doctor’s appointment at 11 a.m. and a meet-up with Mary in the afternoon, so I’m going to do my daily post about yesterday this morning. And I’ll let the photos do most of the talking.

The Wednesday Walkers, all three of us, made the trek out to the far side of Naugsol in Scott’s car. We don’t get out this way very often due to a lack of transportation options, but with our small turnouts of late, a single vehicle is all that’s needed.

Where we walked. About 6.5K when we were done.
My fellow hikers, Ed and Scott
Let’s do this!
It’s probably only 5K further out than my regular walks, but the scenery is different, and it has a whole other vibe for some reason.
And we ran into a locally famous hiker named Karl doing his own trek from the opposite direction. I have nothing but respect and admiration for Karl. He is in his late 70s and does these amazing historical hikes (like abandoned mines, military battlefields, etc.) that are long, challenging, and little traveled. And he goes it alone. Well done, sir!
Kids at the local sari-sari store
A military checkpoint in the middle of nowhere. I’m not sure if there are insurgents in the area; I’ve never heard of any issues out this way.
A powerful tower!
Time to cross the river
That’s one way to do it.
The headwaters of the Matain river…
Resting on a shady rock
Do you see what I see?
Marching on the old dirt road
These native Aeta children were happy for some cookies.
As were this shy mother and child
Follow the leader
The path less taken
Nature’s handrail
The village of Alibang
Children of the village
The village church and schoolhouse
The final cookie delivery for the day
Road work
Finishing our hike in the shadow of Easter mountain

I really enjoyed this excursion, one of the best of our recent efforts.

There was still more to do, of course, including my Wednesday feeding at Hideaway. I had a 15% discount coupon for Sit-n-Bull, so I put it to work:

The night’s menu: fried chicken, chicken fingers, shanghai lumpia, and lasagna with mashed potatoes and garlic bread for Joy. Oh, with brownies for dessert.
Garlic bread down the hatch
A swallow of potatoes…

The beer flowed freely, as did the lady drinks, some friendly interactions with the other patrons, and a nice relaxing evening in my Hideaway.

I was sober enough to do a nightcap across town at Whiskey Girl, where I enjoyed two for the price of one beer and snuggle time with Jenn.

The dancers put on a nice show for me as well.

I’d call it a good day. Better than this guy had:

This is right down the street from my house. It was like this last night when I came home, and it was still there this morning on my dog walk. Looking at it, I can’t imagine what went wrong, but maybe he just made the left turn a bit too soon.

Yesterday was Vietnam Vets Day, in case you missed it. This tribute is pretty spot-on regarding how my feelings about the war evolved over time. Whatever your opinion about the rationale for engaging in that conflict, the young people who fought it deserve nothing but respect. I encourage you to give it a read.

The doctor’s visit today is about my blocked sinuses and to consult about the surgery that is likely required to resolve the issue. Hopefully, I’ll have good news to report tomorrow in that regard.

Do it to me one more time

Just another Tuesday in paradise. I made my grocery shopping excursion to Royal and wasn’t disappointed…higher prices and more items out of stock—the new normal.

I did get this box of Raisin Bran for 50% off (regular price $4.80). When I got home, I took a closer look and saw that the “use by” date is March 29. Oops! I’ll eat them anyway. What could go wrong?

My mountain friend came and gave me one of her special massages, leaving me panting for breath at the end. That gave me a chance to try out my new portable bedside nebulizer.

It must have worked; I’m still alive.

When beer o’clock (I can say that again!) rolled around, I decided to start with some food and headed over to John’s place.

I was in a pulled pork kind of mood.
Watching the sun as I dined.

After my meal, I popped into It Doesn’t Matter for a couple more beers. I was waiting for 6:00 p.m. to arrive so I could use my 500 peso voucher at Hot Zone. I must say, the lineup of dancers last night was the best I’ve seen in quite some time. Owner Jay joined me at my table and brought a couple of dancers down from the stage to join us. There was another group in the bar with several other dancers at their table. That only left two girls on stage, and I felt kind of sorry for them, so I asked Jay if I should have them join us too. He thought that was a fine idea and instructed me on the Hot Zone way to invite a girl down:

“Stand beside the stage. Rub your hands together. The girl will come over to you and pull her top down. Gently rub her breasts, and then she will come to your table.”

That’s just what I did with both of them, and it worked like a charm! They each ordered double lady drinks (shame on me for not specifying otherwise), but since I had seen and touched their boobs, I guess they earned the extra commission.

In keeping with my newly instituted “drink responsibly” policy, I had reached my limit and it was time to bill out and go home. My beers did not exceed the 500 pesos credit on my voucher, but the two lady drinks totaled 600 pesos. So, once again, my coupon wound up costing me money. Oh, well. I’m rarely at Hot Zone, and I did enjoy me some eye candy. I’d say it was worth it.

Another night of getting home before 8:00 p.m. and being asleep before 9. I really need to stretch that out some, I think. Keeping everything else in balance, of course. I don’t want to fall into more bad habits.

Feeding night at Hideaway tonight to look forward to. A very nice Wednesday Walkers hike on the far side of Naugsol this morning I’ll post about tomorrow.

As always, thanks for coming by. It’s bound to get better.

A nothing burger Hash

I’m still here. So far. I hope the transition to the new host goes smoothly.

I don’t much care for the Hare for yesterday’s trail. It was a hotter than usual afternoon. The trail started halfway up Rizal Extension, which made it a pain in the ass to get to for me. Which is why I said fuck it and made my own trail. Actually, I met up with Scott, whose healing ankle wasn’t up for a mountain climb, and did a street walk with him. At the end of our hike, we had a late lunch/early dinner at Sit-n-Bull.

I did the chimichangas.

After our meal, we walked up the street to the VFW for the Hash circle. I got called out for a Hash crash and was required to sit on the ice for my non-Hash-related drunken tumble on Friday night. That’s okay.

After the Hash circle, I joined the group at It Doesn’t Matter for some more beers. I was mindful of my inebriation level and departed prior to reaching the danger zone. It feels good to be back in control!

Hopefully, it will be a more normal Hash adventure next week with pictures and everything.

Last night at Hideaway

While I’m at it and still can, here’s the lowdown from last night’s feeding at Hideaway.

As usual, Sunday dinner came from Jewel Cafe. Chef salad, egg fried rice, ten chicken wings, and seven orders of pork sisig.

A couple of the feeders…
And the star of the show

I behaved myself, confining myself to San Mig Zero beer. I had several but didn’t cross the line. As I was walking down the highway contemplating my nightcap venue, once again, a trike driver called me by name and wanted to take me home. Upon reflection, I decided that was my best option, so I took it.

So, hopefully, I’ll be back tomorrow with a post about today’s Hash.

Until we meet again, I trust I won’t be a Long Time Gone.

I’m moving

I set up a new hosting service with an outfit called Bluehost. I hope the migration goes well, would hate to lose 18 years of blogging history. The domain should activate within hours; moving the history might take a week.

I checked reviews, and Bluehost is supposed to be good, especially for WordPress blogs like mine. But whatever is wrong with Hostgator these past few days is bad enough, but their non-responsive customer “service” was inexcusable.

My other big thrill this morning was dealing with my Chase credit card account. I had cleaned my cookies in an effort to resolve the blog issues, and Chase no longer recognized my device, so I needed to enter a verification code. No big deal; in the past, they have always emailed the code. This time that was not an option; it had to be by phone. Except they had an old phone number from the USA. So, I had to call them, and that was a nightmare. When I finally got through, the person I was speaking with disconnected. When I got through again, a security question asked me what was my address in Fort Smith, Arkansas. Um, I lived there in 1982, and that’s about all I remember. A follow-up question was, who did my mortgage on a house in South Carolina? Does anyone remember crap like that? I don’t. Like I told the agent, I’m lucky to remember my name these days. Oh well, we finally got it resolved, and I have access to my account again. The first thing I did was update my phone number. They can contact me next time.

Anyway, rant over. For now.

FU Hostgator

I’ve had no luck contacting Hostgator’s alleged 24-hour chat help desk. And the accessing my blog issues continue. I mean, I can eventually get back online, but it takes several tries. No idea what the problem is. Anyway, I’ve decided to move to a new blog host service. Not sure how long the migration takes at this point, but if I’m offline, don’t panic; I’ll be back!

Shouldn’t be down for more than a few hours I’m told.

Zeroing in

Welcome back, my friend! I’ve missed you!

I made it through my miserable hangover day. It reminded me of my COVID symptoms: no energy, light-headed, and without appetite. I took a day off from walking and just lazed around the house, napping off and on. By the time evening rolled around, I was feeling marginally better, so I ventured out to see what Saturday night held in store for me.

I kicked things off at It Doesn’t Matter, and waitresses Agnes and Juliet immediately noticed that something was off with me, And not just because I ordered a San Mig Zero instead of gins and soda. They commented on my wounds, and I had to tell the story of my sordid encounter with gravity the night before. I took my time downing two cold bottles (3% alcohol and 60 calories each), then decided I needed to have my first meal of the day.

IDM no longer serves food, but the Hops and Brews beer garden seemed like a good option, so off I went. I hadn’t been here since my first date with Lydell, but I couldn’t hold the restaurant responsible for that failed attempt at a relationship. Hops and Brews is a beer connoisseur’s dream with draft and bottled brews from around the world. I just wanted to stick with my new old favorite, Zero, but alas, that’s one brand they don’t carry. I had to settle for a San Miguel Light (5% alcohol and 100 calories) to wash down my tasty sweet and sour pork dinner. One beer here and out.

Next stop, BarCelona. Two Zeros consumed as I enjoyed the view of my former hangout, Cheap Charlies. My eyes are not good enough to make out faces from that distance, but the bar didn’t seem very busy. I wonder if the gals there are missing me my lady drinks largesse? Sorry seems to be the hardest word, right, Nerissa?

I’m happy to report that my drinking low-alcohol beer slowly strategy seemed to be working quite well. I wanted to finish my night at the scene of my crime, Wet Spot, to see if I had engaged in any behaviors that warranted an apology. Both my waitress, Irene, and owner, Dave, assured me that while I appeared to be having a good time, I had not been rude or otherwise obnoxious. Dave even bought me a beer!

So, after eight beers on the night, I went home with a light buzz but no discernable physical impairment. That’s always the goal. My Fitbit tells me I fell asleep at 8:40 p.m. and awoke at 3:47 a.m. That’s a tad early on both ends, but it suits me better than waking up on the floor, that’s for sure.

I am happy to report that I’m feeling back to normal today.

My facial wounds (forehead, under the eye, and under the nose) appear to be healing fine.

I did a 7K walk this morning that went well despite my being a little winded towards the end. Coincidentally, as I concluded my hike, I saw a sign for a new funeral parlor:

That’s a perfect name, as I’m sure their clients will indeed be breathless.

And I got a message from one of my former employees, Sherry Villanueva, and she sent me this photo of those long ago days when I was her boss in Korea.

That’s probably from around 2006 or so. I was not the Director yet but in charge of employee and labor relations. I hired Sherry as one of my staffers.

My favorite story about Sherry came immediately after I hired her. I interviewed by telephone, so I had never seen her before. She was the most qualified, so she’s the one I picked. I never gave a crap about EEO and their “underrepresentation” stats. I picked the best person for the job and didn’t care what color they were. Still, I assumed with a name like “Villanueva,” she was Hispanic, and EEO would tick off that box. I was surprised to get an email from EEO congratulating me on meeting my Pacific Islander goal. Yep, Sherry is a Filipina. What a world.

Anyway, Sherry only worked for me for a couple of years before starting a new job in the USA. We remained Facebook friends but very rarely had any contact. And now, she is returning to Korea to my old job as the Director, Human Resources Management for USFK/8th Army. Congratulations, and good luck to her! It’s great to see someone you mentored become such a success.

And the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.

UPDATE: I’m not sure if everyone is having the same issues I and at least one of my readers are having accessing my blog. I’ve tried to contact HostGator to see what the issue is but have not had any success with that either. The issue seems to come and go, so check back later if, at first, you don’t succeed.

An SOB kicked my ass last night

The drunk SOB I’m referring to. I don’t remember taking this selfie or much of anything else.

Gin and her pal Soda were accessories to the crime. Mary was a witness, and I guess that’s a good thing; otherwise, I’d have no recollection of what happened. Actually, I don’t recall much about my attendance at the SOB, but I must have had a good time. When the show was over, Mary and I took a trike back to my house. She said that I tripped and fell on my face when I exited the trike. The trike driver tried to help Mary get me back on my feet; then, a passing motorcyclist stopped to assist. I woke up on the floor of my bedroom in the wee hours of the morning, wondering what the fuck happened. Mary filled in the gaps, and from what she describes, I don’t know that I’ve ever been drunker. I know the hangover I’m suffering from today is one of the worst I’ve experienced.

So, I’ve come to a decision. I’m going to give up drinking. Gin. That’s right; beer belly be damned, I’m going back to Zero from now on. The trouble with hard alcohol drinks for me is I can’t monitor my level of inebriation–one minute, I’m fine; the next, I’m over the line. With beer, especially a low-alcohol beer like Zero, I can drink until I’m ready to stop without getting falling down drunk. I mean, I like a nice relaxing buzz, but I hate losing control of my mind and body. I’ve had two falls now on Gin, and it is just not worth pushing my luck.

In other news, we had a pleasant Friday group hike. Only four of us and we did the My Bitch trail from end to end.

Right around 8K with one climb.
Gathering at the start
And we’re off!
Up the steps in shanty town
It was a hot day, and the shade felt good
Come on up, Anne!
A shady spot to wait for the stragglers.
Barretto
Baloy
Kalaklan Ridge
Taking in the view
Grassy summit
That’s Rizal Extension down below
Easter mountain. Looks like I’ll be one of the Hares for the traditional Easter Monday climb to the top.
Getting it done
Back down on Rizal Extension
Looking back up at where we’d been

The day started better than it ended, that’s for sure!

Over sand and foam

Thursday is the day I make my weekly visit to the floating bar on Baloy. I really do enjoy the ambiance and gentle swaying on the water as I sip my gin and soda.

I should probably visit more often, but maybe the “only once in a while” aspect adds to the enjoyment.

Before the floating bar was relaunched, I got my sand and foam fix satiated at McCoy’s beach bar. I felt a little guilty about not being back since the floater option was available, so I resolved to pay a visit once I was back ashore.

The view from McCoy’s
And the view from my barstool

I would have preferred a seat with a better water view, but the late afternoon setting sun was shining brightly on that section of the bar. I was feeling a little hungry, but the only thing I saw on the menu that resonated was the chicken burger. Naturally, I got the “sorry sir, out of stock” response from the waitress. Ah, well. They don’t serve individual gin and soda drinks (you have to buy the bottle and drink shots Filipino style), so I was drinking San Miguel Light (no Zero beer either). Two of those, and I was off to find a more suitable venue for my dining and drinking needs.

I was a little buzzed at this point but still wanted to walk off those beer calories, so I did the jaunt from Baloy to mid-town Barretto.

As I passed Whiskey Girl, the manager, Mark, was seated outside, and we chatted a bit. Then he presented me with a VIP card for an upcoming customer appreciation party. I can drink for free with the card between 5–6 p.m. on April 27th. Woo Hoo! Thanks, Mark!

Further up the road, Mugshots was open, so I popped in to let them know they had missed out on the brownies I had prepared especially for them. As I suspected, they advised that their hours had changed, and now they don’t open until 6:00 p.m. I was the first and only customer, so I ordered my gin and soda and lady drinks for the three bar staff. The Mugshots menu has only a few items, but I don’t mind a small menu where everything is freshly prepared and done well. I went with the chicken wings.

They were delicious, as were the cole slaw and fries. Lots of wings too. I had enough left over for each of my companions to share in the bounty.

I enjoyed my visit to Mugshots, a comfortable and friendly place. I’ll be back. I might even bring some brownies with me.

I headed back out on the road searching for a nightcap venue and decided on Voodoo in keeping with my infrequently visited bars theme. There were a couple of people I knew at the back slapper’s table, and we exchanged greetings. My favorite dancer, an old-timer (literally in her 40s), Tia, was happy to see me after my long absence and joined me at my table for a lady drink. After a bit, I noticed the four remaining dancers on stage looked bored, and as I sometimes do, I wanted to give them a small tip in appreciation for their hard work. I asked my waitress to change two 100 peso notes into four 50s, and she returned saying they wouldn’t give me change. Hmm. You know, it’s no big deal, but it struck me as bad customer service and unfair to their employees. If I’m managing the bar, I send someone outside for change if need be, but that’s just me. It kind of killed my vibe, but I was probably under the influence of the alcohol I had already consumed, so I paid up and left. I grabbed a trike outside and was home and in bed before 9 p.m. Yep, that’s how I roll these days.

What else? Well, Facebook reminded me that one year ago, I took this photo of the house being constructed behind me:

And here is how it looks today. Still work being done, but the main construction appears complete. It doesn’t completely destroy my bay view, although I have to believe some type awning will be built over that rooftop patio. You can’t sit out there in the sun without one.

Oh, and remember that Philly cheesesteak sandwich photo from yesterday?

Didn’t taste any better than it looks

Well, today, John Kim of John’s Sushi and Steak fame posted on Facebook that his Philly cheesesteak sandwich is on special this week.

I can’t wait to taste the difference!

And I don’t do much politics these days, having learned that minds aren’t likely to be changed regardless, so what’s the point? I still see others who do, and the ensuing arguments are pretty sad to see. So, this seems to serve as an apt reminder to those who choose to engage in a war of words:

At least, that’s how I see it.

I’m planning on doing the SOB tonight, and it looks like Mary will be joining me for the event. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.

Searching for The Alamo

I looked all over San Antonio and didn’t find it. We did come across the Philippine Navy base, where we were detained during a Hash run back in 2019, but wisely did not breach the perimeter this time. The purpose of the trip to “not the one in Texas” was to scout potential Hash trails for an outstation run in May.

We did a 6K walk through primarily flat farmland, which will be fine for the easy trail. We’ll go back out in a couple of weeks to add a three or four-kilometer loop to satisfy the die-hard Hashers.
The trail will begin and end at the FRA (Fleet Reserve Association). I really love the bar/restaurant here, especially the sweet and friendly waitresses.
Hitting the road with my fellow invaders from Barretto
The road that leads to the Navy base. Scott golfs here every week. It’s about an hour’s drive from Barretto.
Helen is checking out whatever the hell that is drying in the sun.
We turned left before reaching the gate to the base.
A bridge is under construction, but in the meantime, it’s a question of balance.
I skipped across the stones without a problem (this time).
Scott said, “fuck that,” and waded across. Good to have Scott back up and hiking with us again.
This big ol’ tree looked more amazing than I managed to capture in a photo.
Helen provided some perspective on its size.
We tried to follow the “river” as much as possible, but the path took its own course, and we went with the flow.
I hope the resident won’t mind us hiking through the yard.
I thought about making a corny joke, but that would be too eerie.
Helen found the corn a maizeing (okay, I’ll stop)
A path between the fields
When you overcook the corn…
Cookie time!
Goats on a rope
Friendly locals
Highway walking
At the end of the trail
A Philly cheesesteak sandwich for lunch. A little disappointing, truth be told.
But I love this bar. I’ll be back for the annual FRAlics event next month.

Speaking of bars, the feeding at Hideaway went fine, although I really need to get my spending under control. The pizza was 890 pesos, Joy’s lasagna was 420 pesos, and the fried chicken was 500 pesos…that’s almost $40. My bar tab after a bunch of drinks for the ladies and me was another $50. Oh, well. You can’t take it with you, I suppose.

I guess the brownies were good too.

Hideaway was my first and last stop on the night. As I stumbled down the highway thinking about “where to next?” a trike driver pulled up and said, “Sir John, I’ll take you home now.” I figured my guardian angel must have sent it, so I hopped in and called it a night.

It was a full and fine day.

Another Bluesday

Not saying it was a bad day necessarily; just a little bit off. I supposedly had a doctor’s appointment with an ENT specialist in Olongapo at 8:30 a.m., but when I arrived, I was told the doctor wouldn’t be in until 11:00. Apparently, there was a miscommunication with my helper, who confused office hours with the doctor’s hours. The way it works with most physicians is you show up and are seen on a “first come, first served” basis. Bullshit. I’m not sitting around for a couple of hours to see a doctor–give me an appointment, and I’ll be there. I know, I know, take a deep breath, relax, and accept the Filipino way. Hmm, nope, still not gonna do it.

Things didn’t get much better come evening time. The last time I visited Mugshots, the bartender said she was craving some of my brownies. I honestly didn’t recall ever bringing brownies there, but I promised her would bring some on a future visit. With nothing specific in mind for my night out, I set about keeping my word and baked up a batch. Now, I seem to recall that Mugshots opened late afternoon, so I was planning to share the brownies and try their food, which I’d seen receive positive reviews. I arrived around 5:00, and they were closed. Now what? I started to walk another block to Blue Butterfly but changed my mind. It’s not on my regular circuit, and I just wasn’t feeling it. Cheap Charlies seemed like a good fit, but I wanted to avoid the drama with Nerissa I experienced on my previous visit. Well, I decided that it was within my power to do so, and off I went. I honestly figured Nerissa wouldn’t bother to bother with me anyway.

As soon as I sat down, Nerissa came and sat next to me. I gave her a polite greeting and proceeded to ignore her. Once again, she didn’t express any regrets about ending our budding friendship so abruptly, and I really had nothing else to say to her (nor any poems to recite). After a bit, she took the hint and moved away to another stool. I had a couple of drinks alone (my other regulars weren’t working), then paid my tab and left. I still don’t understand the situation with her, and I’m a little pissed at myself for even caring. But whatever, I’m moving on.

I walk back to Mugshots, and they still aren’t open. Oh well, I guess it was just not meant to be brownie night there. I turn around and head up the highway, and figure The Green Room will be a place I can drink and order some grub from Sit-n-Bull. I’m far from a regular there, but it is still a friendly place. I order my drink and see that someone is having a birthday party, and the girls are all partaking in the cake. My poor brownies just can’t catch a break! The Sitn-n-Bull waitress arrives, and I decide to dine on a pork steak. I also get the waitresses in my section a pizza to share (cheaper than lady drinks!). I finish my food and drink(s), then me and my brownies depart.

Where to next? I had just been to Whiskey Girl the night before, but I figured Jenn would be a suitable recipient of my brownies gift. She was nowhere to be seen when I arrived, but another waitress fetched her for me. She said she had been eating, and I told her to go back and finish her meal. She refused and plopped down next to me. I told you she was sweet!

She seemed to enjoy my brownies as much as I enjoyed her snuggling.

I got a message from my pal Ron that he was going to Snackbar at 8:00. I responded that I’d had just about enough to drink, but I’d join him there for one on my way home. When I arrived, he wasn’t there. But my former love was, though. Cuddled up with her new husband. At least she took it outside, so it wasn’t in my face. I had a drink to drown my sorrows, bought one for my three favorites, then grabbed a trike for home.

What a day. Well, they all can’t be good ones, and I suppose it could have been worse. Hopefully, it will be a more pleasant experience feeding the girls at Hideaway tonight.

Oh, Facebook memories shared these photos I took of the National Highway in Barretto in March 2020:

Looking on the bright side of the scamdemic, at least it was easy to cross the road without the need to dodge trikes, jeepneys, and crazy drivers. Of course, there was no need to cross the street because every fucking thing had been shut down for the lockdown.

Those were the days, eh?

A well-marked trail

(With apologies to ZZ Top)

Hash shirt, hiking shoes
But I don't know where I'm goin' to
Fresh powder, bright chalk
And now I know where to walk

Gonna make it ON-HOME without any fails
'Cause Hashers go crazy about a well-marked trail

Steep hills, thick grass
But I ain't losin' my ass
Checkpoints, creek beds
But I'll keep movin' ahead

Gonna make it ON-HOME without any fails
'Cause Hashers go crazy 'bout a well-marked trail

Commenter Kevin asked for a post showing how a Hash trail is marked, so I will attempt to do so using yesterday’s trail as an example of a well-marked trail. The trail itself was overall the easiest I’ve done in recent memory. I forgot to turn on my tracker, but the Hare said the short trail was 4K. I finished in just over an hour, so I doubt it was actually that long.

The climb I did was of average difficulty and length, but damn, my poor old lungs were making me wonder if my days in the hills are numbered. I had to pause a couple of times to use my inhaler, but I finally made it to the top. After that, it was clear sailing without any issues. In fact, I was surprised to find myself at the proverbial end of the trail much sooner than I expected.

Let’s do it again through pictures, shall we?

The Hare, Yogini, did something a little unusual by demonstrating some of the markings we would encounter on the trail during the meet-up at the VFW.

So, you have the powder on the ground, which indicates you are on the trail. The chalk arrow points in the direction you should go, and the “1” confirms the marking is for the day’s trail, #1541. That’s important because we often encounter marks from previous Hashes, and without a number, you may follow an old trail. The circle with the “x” is a checkpoint. Some Hares will place a checkpoint when there is an intersection of trails. This requires the Hashers to explore the various options until they find the right path. If they come to the three lines, it means On-Back; you are on the wrong trail. You know you are on the right trail when you find a chalk or powder marker, which indicates you are “On-On!” I personally despise checkpoints and never incorporate them into my trails as a Hare.

The Hare provided last-minute guidance to the kennel at the VFW starting point.
And we are On-On!
A chalk arrow points the way.
And the powder on the ground affirms you are indeed on the right trail.
Ah, the dreaded checkpoint. The original intent and purpose of a checkpoint was to help close the gap between fast and slow Hashers. So, whoever got there first would explore the options, find the true trail, and then indicate the proper direction with a new chalk marking. That doesn’t happen here in the Subic Hash; it’s every Hasher for themself. And as the person who is perennially at the back of the pack, it just puts me further behind. I guessed right on my first try at this checkpoint, though.
Powder on a tree…
...and chalk on a rock
Do you see the arrow?
On-Up!
Each step is one step closer to the top.
By golly, I think we done it!
My little town
An Easter mountain view
Just follow the powder, and you can’t go wrong
One of the factors I consider important to a well-marked trail is frequency and consistency. There should always be some kind of mark when there is more than one option, like at an intersection. I also like to see a mark at regular intervals (I think every 50 steps or so is good). If I haven’t seen a mark in a while, I know I must have missed the trail, so I can turn around and find it.
Plodding along
These kids seem to know when I’m coming…
Let’s go thataway!
As usual, the runners on the long trail passed me before I finished the short trail.
Babes in the shade
Powder AND an arrow…I like it!
Made it to Alta Vista
Seems clear enough
Hard not to see that turn
We exited Alta Vista in an unusual way, climbing those steps up to the water tank, then coming back down through a squatter village.
The view of Alta Vista from the water tank. That’s actually the street I live on down there.
“Beer Near” is probably my favorite trail marking.
I know the way from here
On-Home at Johansson’s
A gathering of Hashers
I had the chicken cordon bleu for my post-hike nourishment
Hash Gash
Circle up!
It’s nice on ice!
A visiting Hasher from Puerto Galera is given a special Subic greeting
Watching the festivities
Here’s a useful tip: DO NOT wear new shoes to the Hash. Unless you want to drink out of them.
Turns out, it was also our visitor’s birthday. Happy 28th, and enjoy the cake we made you!

After the Hash, I had some more beer at Sloppy Joe’s. I even bought Jamaica a lady drink. When I was walking back towards my end of town in search of a nightcap, I heard Jenn calling out to me from across the highway at Whiskey Girl. So, I got to finish the day with some cuddling. That’s always nice!

Here’s the original version of the song I re-wrote for this blog post:

What it was

It was Sunday, and it went like this:

Mary was making a cookie delivery to my house at 1:00 p.m., so I promised her lunch. I teased her with this photo because she professes to love corn dogs. But what she got was chili and cornbread. She seemed to love that too.
My cookies for distribution to the kiddies I encounter on my hikes.

Mary joined me in the bedroom for dessert and a nap, then she left to make more deliveries, and I headed out for the Sunday feeding at Hideaway.

I’ve made Jewel Cafe the headquarters for Sunday dinner. It’s reasonably priced, the girls seem to enjoy it, and best of all, they deliver. I just drop by on the way to Hideaway, place my order, and hit the street. Last night it was four orders of pork sisig, two orders of chicken quesadilla, two orders of chicken wings, and a pork chop for Joy. Since I’d been otherwise occupied all afternoon, I got a dozen Dunkin’ Donuts for the girl’s dessert.

pork sisig
chicken wings
quesadilla
I neglected to get a photo of the grilled pork chop, but here’s one of Joy biting a quesadilla.
donuts for dessert

I sprang for a few lady drinks, got comped on a couple of mine, and had fifty dollar bar tab when I left (dinner was another thirty). That’s livin’ large, even by my standards, but like they say, you can’t take it with you when you go.

I was feeling no pain when I left Hideaway, but I didn’t let that stop me from dodging traffic on the highway as I made my way across town. I was thinking about Alaska but liked the idea of sitting outside at Sloppy Joe’s better.

As seen from my perch at Sloppy Joe’s. The girl on the right with her back to me is Jamaica. She used to work at Snackbar, and I was crushing on her at one time. She calls me Daddy, though, which I think is code for “you’re a fucking old man, leave me alone!” Her body language seems to be saying the same.

Alaska is right next door, so I made that my final destination for the night.

And as always, I enjoyed the beauty of Virginia. Maybe one of these days, I’ll explore more of Virginia.

Here’s some other stuff I came across:

The Babylon Bee has a story entitled: Man Disappointed To Learn ‘Quoting Monty Python’ Not A Marketable Skill. It made me laugh, especially in light of the fiasco that was me reciting poetry to Filipina bargirls.

I recently made a photographic appearance on an expat forum called PI@Night. “Exploring the PI with a focus on it’s colorful nightlife, from the expat and visitor perspective.”

Board members have an alias name, sort of like the Hash. I’m Walrus on PI@Night. Saturday night, we were all randomly together at the same table in Wet Spot. What are the odds?

Then a friend back in Seoul sent me a link to an old Flickr page of photos from the Seoul International Dart League. It was quite a stroll down memory lane with faces of people I hadn’t seen for many years. Here are a couple of my favorites:

Who’s that girl?
Who’s that fat guy on the left?
Where are they now? Last I heard, Dave was in Pennsylvania, Grant was in Baja California, and Alistair is in Scotland. The fat guy is in the Philippines and retired from darts.
I really was having the time of my life back in those days (circa 2008). I’m not sure I appreciated that fact at the time, though. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the same thing now. These might well be the best days of my life. And really, at my age, every day of living is a gift.

And finally, there is this:

It may not look like much now, but this vacant lot at the corner of Baloy Road and the National Highway, will soon be the location of Barrio Barretto’s newest dining establishment. It’s actually part of a chain you might have heard of–McDonald’s.

Alright, it’s Hash Monday, and I need to grab a nap and then get ready to hike. I will be back with more excitement tomorrow. Assuming I have one.

The most important things

“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.”

Stephen king

So, about last night. I hadn’t visited It Doesn’t Matter in quite some time, so I decided I’d start out there. I’m not sure why, but the vibe just felt different somehow, and not in a good way. Maybe it was just me. I decided to change things up with a visit to Cheap Charlies.

My longtime favorite, Alma, was back after taking time off to be with her visiting American boyfriend. She gave me a warm greeting and took my drink order. I was a little surprised when Nerissa pulled up a chair beside me. Well, she may not like me, but I guess earning a drink commission is still a priority. At first, I gave her a bit of a cold shoulder treatment, but after a couple of drinks, I lightened up some. I showed her a message I’d sent her after our last meeting that she hadn’t responded to, and she told me that’s not an active account. I reminded her I was blocked on the other one, and she just shrugged. For whatever reason, I felt compelled to recite some poetry from memory. This was the first one:

I ask but one thing of you, only one,
That always you will be my dream of you;
That never shall I wake to find untrue
All this I have believed and rested on,
Forever vanished, like a vision gone
Out into the night. Alas, how few
There are who strike in us a chord we knew
Existed, but so seldom heard its tone
We tremble at the half-forgotten sound.
The world is full of rude awakenings
And heaven-born castles shattered to the ground,
Yet still our human longing vainly clings
To a belief in beauty through all wrongs.
O stay your hand, and leave my heart its songs!

–Amy Lowell

The other girls seemed impressed. Nerissa just sat there with a blank expression. I don’t know why I can remember all the lines in a poem, but I am lucky to remember my name sometimes. Since I was on a roll, this poem came to mind:

Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,
Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold,
Let it be forgotten for ever and ever,
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

If anyone asks, say it was forgotten
Long and long ago,
As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall
In a long forgotten snow.
–Sara Teasdale

Reciting poems in a bar with loud music in the background is a pretty foolish thing to do, and I was not quite drunk enough to continue the effort. But when Nerissa came back from the CR and sat down on the other side of me, I leaned over towards her so I could speak privately. Then I began reciting the Stephen King quote from above. Nerissa stopped me about halfway through and said, “why do you quote poems instead of just saying what’s on your mind?” I guess I realized then that I was wasting my breath on her, so I ceased the effort to determine if there was any friendship left to salvage.

I had ordered some food from the restaurant downstairs, and when it arrived, I shared it with my bargirl crew.

Lumpia, chicken fingers, and wings.
The crew. You can see how happy Nerissa is to see me.
It might be time to find a different venue with less drama.

I departed Cheap Charlies, crossed the highway, and pulled up a chair in Wet Spot. I spent some time with owner Dave and met a couple of new folks. I must have overdosed on gin and sodas because I’d forgotten all about seeing Mary’s school friend, a dancer at Wet Spot until I uploaded the photos from my phone camera this morning.

I can recite a poem off the top of my head, but I can’t remember her name.
I had noticed her long before I met Mary. I think she is amazing looking.
I guess she is sending me a message here–is it “fuck you!” or “fuck me?”

Whatever. Even though I’m embracing the mantle of “player,” I wouldn’t mess around with the friend of someone I’m seeing. I don’t recall doing anything to piss her off, and I assume I bought her a lady drink, but who knows? The look on her face doesn’t convey a “nice to see you” vibe.

I made it home safe and sound, and we’ll see what happens next. Mary has a little sideline business selling snack foods, and I ordered some cookies to hand out on my hikes. She is supposed to be delivering them to me this afternoon. Then, later on, I’ll do the Sunday feeding at Hideaway.

And the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.

Good enough

That’s how my day was. See for yourself.

Started with a 7k valley walk
Three hiking companions joined in the fun
Easter mountain, as seen from the valley floor
Directionless.
We went thataway
Farm living

I mentioned in yesterday’s post that Mary wanted to join me when she finished an after-school event. She sent me these photos:

Some sort of pageant for International Women’s Month
It appears to have been well-attended.
One of the participants
And another
Mary paid (well, technically, I did) to have her make-up done for the event
I’d actually never seen Mary in make-up before she sent these photos. And she washed it all off before meeting me in Barretto.
Although she looks fine without it too

I had planned to start my night out at Cheap Charlies. And on a whim, I’d even baked up a batch of brownies to share with the girls there. But as I walked into town, I decided I didn’t want to have any drama around Nerissa, so I set a course for Hideaway instead. I know they like my brownies there. Everyone was surprised to see me come in on a Friday night, especially Joy. So, the brownies were dispensed, some lady drinks were purchased, and I, of course, downed some gin and sodas. And then Mary messaged that she was on her way, so I said farewell to the Hideaway crew and headed out.

I was ready for some food, and since John’s place was in close proximity, I told Mary to meet me there. We headed upstairs together, ordered some drinks (we both do the gin and soda combo now), and perused the menu. Mary professed not to be that hungry, so I ordered the beef bulgogi for us to share and an order of Korean-style chicken wings. The bulgogi comes with rice, and to my surprise, Mary said she doesn’t like rice. She’s the first Asian I’ve met who feels that way. So, I substituted the rice with cole slaw.

The bulgogi. Mary loved it.
And eight chicken wings. They were good, but we had four leftovers, and I gifted them to our waitress.
And the star of the show.

After our meal, I took Mary to Bar Barretto to hear some live music. Alas, the band was not due to start for another hour, so we went next door to Mugshots instead. It’s a cozy little bar I haven’t been to for quite a while. We were the only customers, and Mary and the bartender chatted away in Tagalog. Mary told me later that the bartender mentioned she was only the second woman she had seen me with (the other being my long-ago ex, Marissa). I guess that makes me a part-time player. But it also goes to show that gossip amongst the gals is a really big thing in these parts.

I’d had my fill of alcohol by now, so we took a trike back to my place. I made us a smoothie, and the next thing I remember is waking up next to Mary in the wee hours of the morning. She woke up too, and was feeling frisky. A nice way to start the day!

I baked some banana-walnut muffins to go with our morning coffee; then, it was time to walk the dogs.

The boys seem to enjoy Mary’s company as much as I do, and she also seems rather fond of them.

After the walk, I made us a breakfast burrito (well, it was my regular burrito, I just served it for breakfast). That went down well, too. Mary took the TV remote and started playing some tunes on the YouTube channel. I commented on the fact that the music she was enjoying was older than she was. She agreed, saying that music from her generation was too crude for her taste, and she preferred hearing the songs her grandparents had played.

When it was time to go, I told Mary she could join me at the Savers Appliance store and pick out a refrigerator for her house. She was, of course, pleasantly surprised. One thing that I appreciate about Mary is that she doesn’t ask for or seem to expect cash from me. I don’t give her money after our dates because I don’t like the feeling of our time together being on a quid pro quo basis. I was happy to gift her a fridge I knew she needed, knowing it would make her life a little easier.

While we were shopping at Savers, Mary’s grandmother, who lives nearby, came to the store to see Mary and meet me.

Two things stand out–the grandmother is actually YOUNGER than me! And, of course, her dark skin.

If I recall the story correctly, the grandmother’s father is an African-American Navy vet who was stationed here in the 1960s. It’s a funny world.

The shopping experience at Savers was not very pleasant because everything took forever to process, and none of it made any sense to me. Mary reminded me to remain calm and remember that I was in the Philippines. Of course, yes, I needed to accept the Filipino way. In addition to the refrigerator, I bought Mary a microwave oven. That should make her kitchen time more convenient too.

I will give Savers credit for prompt delivery.
Enjoy your new appliances!

Oh, Mary told me that her grandmother had asked her three times now if I was her boyfriend. Mary told her, “not yet,” which was something of a relief. I told Mary I’m not into labels like “BF/GF and all the baggage and expectations that come with those terms. I said I have enjoyed her company and spending time with her, and that was enough for me. She put a heart emoji on that comment, so hopefully, we are on the same page. Hey, I’m a “player,” after all; I can’t go around calling someone my girlfriend!

Time to split

Mary professed to enjoy the pork chop supper I prepared for her yesterday, commenting on how tender they were. That’s the advantage of crockpot cooking, I explained. She’s a bizarre eater. She ate all of her pork chops first. Then the garlic bread toast. But rather than picking it up and biting it as almost everyone else in the world does, she cut it up and forked it into her mouth, bite by bite. Lastly, she spooned the vegetable medley onto her plate and so completed her meal.

Mary comes across as a bit of a foodie, remembering everything I’ve cooked for her and saying how much she enjoyed it. I guess the way to her heart is through her stomach! She also posts food pictures on her Facebook, and she admits she has gained a bit of weight because she likes eating so much. She told me before that her favorite snack food is a corn dog. So, I picked up a surprise gift for her this week at Royal:

It turns out Mary doesn’t own a microwave or an oven, but she said she’d use the deep fry method to cook her gift. She wants to bring them home on Saturday and feed her Lola (grandmother) too. Why not take them with you today? Oh, she has no refrigerator, either. Well, I’m going to see about bringing some chill to her life.

There was no bedroom dessert this time, and I’ll confess to being a little disappointed. Mary wanted to go out drinking, so I got dressed, and we walked to the floating bar on Baloy Beach. She started out with a Coke but then decided to try my gin and soda combo. She liked it and says it is now her favorite alcoholic beverage. Damn, does that make me a groomer?

We sat and chatted, enjoying our time on the water while watching the sun go down.

I do love the unique views that come with drinking on the floating bar.

I wasn’t feeling too good, my lungs were acting up again, so I decided it was best to go back on shore. I was planning to introduce Mary to the McCoy’s beach bar, but once I started walking on the beach, I thought sitting back down was a better option. Treasure Island Resort was beckoning, so we had a seat at the poolside bar. It turns out Mary has a classmate who works at the reception desk, so she went off for a chat. I decided to surprise Mary with a dessert treat:

The bar waitress put this gem together right before my eyes. Been a long time since I’d had this kind of indulgence, and it was worth the wait.

We shared the banana split, and we had another gin and soda. It was still relatively early, but I wasn’t feeling it and thought I should spend some time at home with my nebulizer. So, we shared a trike back to the highway; I hopped out at the 7-Eleven, and Mary continued on to her home. Seeing how I was standing in front of Snackbar, I allowed myself a nightcap there before heading home where I belonged.

Still alive this morning, so I took that as a good sign. I made it through a flat 7K hike this morning and felt mostly okay. Mary wants to join me later this evening when she finishes an after-school event, so I suppose I’ll let her tag along for a bit on my bar crawl. Then we’ll see what happens next.

Oh, and commenter Kevin suggested that I go to the source (Filipinas) to determine if I’m truly perceived as a “player.” I posed that question to a woman I’ve known for a while without being romantically involved, and her response was a little surprising.

“You’re a flirt, John. You know that. So you are perceived to be flirting with a few girls. You’ve been in the Philippines for quite some time, yet you are still single despite being in a few relationships with local girls. Before I even got to know you, I heard the same stuff about you. We have a different culture. If, in your culture, being with another woman while dating or in a serious conversation with someone is okay, but we perceive it as guys treating us as an option, Playing multiple cards and seeing which card works. I guess Filipinas are vocal or more demonstrative of their feelings.”

Looks like I have my answer. And since I don’t want to be a disappointment, perhaps I should do what is expected of me and play the game. Apparently, I won’t have to do anything differently; I’ll just embrace the perception.

There you have it. Back tomorrow with more of this nonsense.

A letter from Linda

My friend and soulmate, Linda Ketner, succumbed to breast cancer on February 10, 2004. She was 52 years old when she passed away. Four years later, I told our story in this post. Reading that again may provide some context for what I’m writing now. I still think of her frequently and often wonder what she’d have to say about the way I’m currently living my life. I’m sure she would get a laugh out of it, but as was her nature, she’d also offer me support and encouragement. She was my best friend and guardian angel, and I’ll never stop missing her.

What prompted me to revisit the memories of this amazing woman after all these years? Well, it was that damn box with this envelope inside:

The postmark says Linda mailed it to me from Phoenix, AZ, on February 23, 1993. She called it her “care package.”

I’m sure I looked at the contents when I received it, but I haven’t looked inside again during this century. I just haven’t wanted to revisit the pain, I suppose. From what I recall, it contained the letters I had sent her over the years before email became a thing. I still have not looked to see what else I might find, but I reached in yesterday and pulled this out:

It is 30 pages long. She wrote it over the course of three weeks in October 1992

My plan is to excerpt parts of it here because as I reread it, I couldn’t help but feel like she was in the room talking to me. Her personality seems to shine through her words; at least, it did for me. And it also tells the tragic story of her life; cancer was only one of the battles she fought. Preserving the words she wrote to me here on my aptly titled blog is the closest I can come to bringing her back to this world she left behind. Perhaps no one will care about this project but me, and that’s okay. You never know, though. Maybe someone in her family will find her name on the internet and learn what an amazing woman she truly was.

Much more to come soon.

A Walk On Wednesday

Another day in my life that started with a walk and ended with a drunken stagger.

Time out for a safety tip: When withdrawing funds from an ATM, you should have someone around to watch your back. It’s also a good idea to give your lady friend your PIN just in case you forget it. Now back to our regular post.
A long and flat walk (almost 9K) on the streets of Matain and Calapacuan.
Only three were in attendance this week, including newcomer Gary from Austria (on the right)
If there were a theme to the day’s hike, I’d deem it to be “dirty water.”
A bay view in Matain
And a boat view. I’m not a fisherman, but I’m guessing these boats are for nighttime catches.
Back on the highway and headed for Calapacuan
The locals here were all friendly and shouted out cheerful greetings.
More boats on the bay
That peninsula across the water is where Matain is located and where we were earlier in our hike.
On the other side of the highway, we passed this big ol’ fishing pond.
Still going strong…
We found a place to cross.
Waterside living at its finest
It boggles my brain when I see what people do with their trash
Back on the pavement
And off again
An Easter mountain view
Heading back home on the highway

The walk was all flat, but I was breathing hard for the last couple of kilometers. I hope my lungs won’t take my breath away.

Feeding time at Hideaway rolled around, and I headed out to take care of business. Last night the girls enjoyed pizza (Hawaiian, of course), pork liempo, and a roasted chicken. I baked a dozen apple cinnamon muffins for dessert.

The girls were hungry last night! The chicken and liempo were gone in the blink of an eye. I was able to get a shot of some of the pizza.
The muffins seemed popular as well.
The crew on the far side of the bar
And the gals on my side of the bar (the ones I treated to a lady drink)

When it was time to move on from Hideaway, I hoofed it down the highway to Alaska Club for my nightcap.

And enjoyed the view of Virginia. If I were a player, I’d have fucked her by now. Hmm, maybe it’s time to get in the game.

Made it home alone and safe. And now, I’m ready to face the challenges of a brand new day.

Mary is coming over after school. I’m preparing some pork chops in a cream of mushroom soup sauce in the crockpot. After the meal, I’ll take her to the floating bar for a couple of drinks before she goes back home to Kalaklan.

If I were the asshole Nerissa seems to think I am, I’d bring Mary with me to Cheap Charlies. Hmm, maybe next time.

I hear some people
been talkin' me down,
Bring up my name,
pass it 'round.
They don't mention
happy times
They do their thing,
I'll do mine.

Ooh baby,
that's hard to change
I can't tell them
how to feel.
Some get stoned,
some get strange,
But sooner or later
it all gets real.

Walk on

To play or not to be played…

…is that the question?

Commenter Brian shared these thoughts on a recent post:

Random thoughts that somewhat tie in to her giving you the cold shoulder. I may have said this previously in response to an earlier post of yours, but there definitely is a double standard with the number of girls a guy is with vs. the number of guys a girl is with and thoughts thereof.

Although you probably don’t see yourself this way, I bet that most of the girls you come in contact with in your little burg see you as a player. One girl one night, a different one the next week, etc. As you mentioned, in a small town, everyone knows your business. With that type of reputation, most/all ladies will hesitate to get to know you on anything other than a superficial level

My initial reaction was that visiting different bars and buying your favorite girls a lady drink, then leaving alone, doesn’t really qualify as being a player. I think that paying for company or sex is kind of the opposite of being a player. I see a player as someone who strings more than one woman along emotionally, making promises he doesn’t mean to keep and ultimately breaking hearts. Of course, women can be players, too, and I’d wager there are more female players in this town than there are men making a game of romance.

On the other hand, how you are perceived often overrides whatever the truth might be. That seems to be Brian’s primary point: if the women in my town see me as a player, whether I am or not, they will treat me as someone who can’t be trusted with their heart. That seems to indeed be the case with Nerissa.

I went to see Nerissa in Cheap Charlies last night and wasn’t sure what to expect, seeing as how she had unfriended and blocked me on Facebook without a word. She didn’t decline when I invited her to join me for a drink, so that was a start. However, she ordered a double lady drink, something she hadn’t tried before. Given the circumstances, I didn’t object. I also told the other girls milling about that I wanted one on one time with Nerissa. And then I asked her why she had blocked me.

“Because I saw you at BarCelona with another girl,” she responded. That’s what I expected the issue was, but it still didn’t make much sense to me. I’ve had one date with Nerissa: nothing physical, no promises, no commitments. I pointed out that she hadn’t responded when I had asked her when her next day off would be, intending to take her out for dinner. Nerissa said she hadn’t answered because she didn’t know when she’d be off yet. Fine, why didn’t you say that? I told her that her non-responsiveness led me to believe she wasn’t interested in dating me. Nerissa asked me why I hadn’t told her I was seeing someone else, and I truthfully responded that I didn’t feel that I had a relationship with her or any obligation to do so. I told her that if I were trying to hide that I was meeting someone, I wouldn’t have chosen to sit on the rooftop at BarCelona in full view of everyone sitting in Cheap Charlies. I asked her why she hadn’t raised her concerns with me directly instead of just blocking me without explanation. She acted like it was no big deal to be blocked and explained that she didn’t want to see posts of me with another girl.

And that’s pretty much where we left it. I had three drinks; she had two (doubles). I paid my tab and left. I guess my feeling is I’m glad I found out how she is sooner rather than later. If she got that jealous before we were even in a relationship, I can only imagine the nightmare she would likely be as a jealous girlfriend. And perhaps she feels the same–happy to learn I’m such a “player” early on. And so it goes.

After my departure, I headed up the highway to John’s place for some grub.

I had a craving for the pulled pork sandwich.

I also ordered some Korean-style chicken wings to surprise the Hideaway girls.

It turns out just four girls were working last night. I was the only customer. Sixteen wings may have been a bit much, but I imagine Joy took the leftovers home to her kids.

I only had one drink at Hideaway, knowing I’d be back today for the regular Wednesday feeding. I finished my evening at The Green Room with two more drinks, then caught a trike back home.

More and more, I’m thinking I’m better off going through life alone. Who needs all the drama?