You can’t always get what you want

I was going to call today’s post “Ruby Tuesday,” but a quick search revealed I had used that title back in February 2021. I reread the old post, and in the comments, Brian suggested, “You can’t always get what you want,” would have been a more appropriate title. So, here you go.

Shopping at Royal is always hit-and-miss. This week the sugar-free pudding that has been satisfying my sweet tooth’s desire for dessert was out of stock. On the other hand, they did have Coke Zero in the 16oz bottles I prefer for the first time in several weeks. In the end, I guess I got what I needed.

My mountain mama friend MJ whom I support came by for her weekly stipend. I mentioned I had a doctor’s appointment that afternoon, and she asked me what was wrong. I told her I was being treated for AIDS. The look on her face as she jumped back, was priceless! I quickly reassured her that I was joking, and while relieved, I don’t think she likes my sense of humor much.

My visit with Dr. Jo was for another B+ shot, which she recommends I get every 7-10 days. The injection is supposed to help my body up my red blood cell count, which is below normal and may contribute to my periodic breathing difficulties. I also asked if I should get one of those kits to monitor my blood sugar, and she said she didn’t think that was necessary at this time. I’ll return for another blood diagnostics session in a couple of months to check my progress.

It was only 3:30 after my appointment. Too late to go back home and too early to start drinking, so I decided to find something to eat (I had skipped lunch). With time to spare, I made the trek across town to John’s place. My waitress asked if I was interested in the day’s special–Philly cheesesteak. I responded that’s what I came for!

It tasted even better than it looks!

John stopped by my table and asked me what I thought of the sandwich. I told him it was the best I ever had. I said I was especially surprised by the cheese sauce. He told me that was also something he made himself from scratch. Also, the beef was USDA ribeye, which was very tender and tasty. Well done, Mr. Kim!

After my meal, I headed back across town to Sloppy Joe’s. My buds Chris and Jim were there, and I joined them in the pursuit of happiness by downing alcoholic beverages. I can only stay in one place for so long, and when my feet got itchy, I invited Jim to join me in a bar hop.

On the highway in search of our next venue.

Neither of us had been to Adam’s bar in a long time, so we went in to check it out. We were the only customers. They had several bargirls sitting around waiting for something to do. At least they didn’t accost us for lady drinks, which I always appreciate. I’m unsure why Adam’s isn’t doing better; it’s a nice venue with a pool table and dart boards. If I had to guess, I’d say the problem is simply more bars than available customers. That seemed to be the case last night, at least. We finished our beers and departed.

I suggested we pay a visit to Whiskey Girl next, and when I mentioned the “buy one, get one” deal, Jim was sold. My old favorite, Jen, was outside as we arrived, and she escorted us to our table. We ordered our beers, and I bought a lady drink for Jen. I asked about the new girl I had met on my last visit, Niki, and they pointed out that she was on the stage “dancing” (it was more like the typical Barretto shuffle), so I called her down to join us.

Niki made it through her first week, so she’s on her way. To where I can’t say.

Jen asked me about brownies (I guess that’s becoming my nighttime claim to fame, similar to the cookies I hand out during the day), and I pointed out that the last few times I’ve visited the bar, she’s been with a customer or absent, so bringing her brownies hadn’t even occurred to me. Then she told me it was her birthday. I felt bad for her, but as I noted, how was I supposed to know what day she was born? She said she had told me the last time I was there, but I have no recollection of that. Anyway, I promised I’d bring brownies the next time I visit. And then a flower vendor came by, so I bought Jen a rose.

Happy birthday! I also slipped her 500 pesos.

Jim wanted to make Alley Cats the final stop of the evening, but I knew I’d already had enough, so I declined the invite and caught a trike home.

I don’t hike on Tuesdays, but I did find this and found it interesting:

Nearly 150 years ago, in 1874, Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) and his pastor, Joseph Twitchell set off to attempt a walk of 100 miles from Hartford Connecticut to Boston, Massachusetts. They hoped to finish within 48 hours. They often took ten-mile jaunts together, only suffering “jaw ache” from gabbing so much. With this walk, they could store up enough “jaw” for the winter.

The two passed through hamlets along the way and after ten hours and 28 miles they stopped for the night. “Before retiring, they had a consultation and decided that their undertaking had developed into anything but a pleasure trip and was actually hard work.” In the morning they reached mile 35 and then boarded a train for Boston. Twain said, “My knee was so stiff that it was like walking on stilts.” He never tried a 100-mile walk again.

From my new book: Running 100 Miles: Part One (1729-1960), https://ultrarunninghistory.com/100miles1/

Yep, keeping it fun, or at least enjoyable, is my goal these days.

I shared the photo of my mom and dad from 1950 (posted here yesterday) on Facebook, and it generated a lot of feedback. In response to a question, I noted that the marriage was far from perfect, but it had lasted a lifetime (almost 60 years when they passed away).

One of the last photos I took of them together. You can almost feel the love they shared for one another.

This fruit fell far from that tree–I’m a four-time loser at marriage. And love seems to be the bane of my existence. Well, you can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.

Here’s hoping.

King of the road

All trails lead to Yero’s. At least they did for yesterday’s Hash.

The red line is the path the Hare intended. The orange line is the route the “sane” group chose. Our trail was actually a tad longer than the Hare’s but much, much flatter.
The “sane” Hashers gathered at the Alta Vista Community Center. Six of us this time (not shown is Pubic Head since he’s behind the camera for this and many other shots in today’s post.)
There’s Pubic Head
We speculated about how much longer this tree will remain standing. I don’t see it making it through rainy season, especially if there is some wind involved.
Trailers for sale or rent…”
Flower power
Forward march!
Through a village in San Isidro
Over the river…
…and past the hills…
…to grandmother’s house, we go. Actually, I didn’t see a grandmother, but a flock of hungry kids came out looking for their biscuits.
Waiting on the slowpoke
There was one spot where our sane trail intersected with the Hare’s trail, and who should we encounter at that moment? None other than Leech My Nuggets, probably the fastest Hasher in our Kennel.
Almoranus and a virgin Hasher weren’t far behind.
But we kept right on marching to the beat of our own drummer.
We just marched the dusty trail
Another cookie delivery
Who let the dogs out?

Looks like this cow liked the look of Fuck Buddy’s ass…
If you say so. But may I enter?

Through a neighborhood in Calapacuan…
…and onto the National Highway.
We arrived at our On-Home venue, Yero’s, six kilometers from where we began.
Ain’t that a pisser?
Some Hash Gash for your viewing pleasure.
I passed the Hashit to Leech My Nuggets, charging him with being so fast and agile that he makes me appear old and fat. He advised me to have a look in the mirror.

And that’s pretty much the story of how this week’s Hash went down. The other thing that happened was my decision to stop by Snackbar on my way home. I saw someone there I’d missed, and I remembered what it was like to have passion in my life. All the beer in the world won’t fill that void, but it doesn’t stop me from trying.

Facebook memories showed me a happy couple who got together a few years before I was born.

Mom and Dad before they were Mom and Dad, circa 1950 or so.

Alrighty then, time for me to get out of here.

Sunday with My Bitch

Or maybe I should say bitches, since I had a feeding, too.

Anyway, I decided to change my usual Sunday stroll into a hike by traversing the My Bitch trail from one end to the other. I’ve gotten to where I play it safe by not hiking offroad by myself. So much can go wrong, and one slip, trip, or fall can leave you in a world hurt. But street walks can get boring, and the Bitch is like an old friend, so I decided to cautiously risk it.

Here’s the story of my hike in pictures:

Out my front door and onto Shenandoah
To the end of Everglades
Where the My Bitch trail starts when going in this direction (otherwise, it is where it ends)
Nature’s stairsteps
The old man’s house, or at least what is left of it. I guess it’s been three years or so since he died, but in my early days on the Bitch I’d always see him just sitting there alone, staring straight ahead. I brought him cookies once about a week before he passed away. Damn, I hope he didn’t have diabetes! Anyway, RIP; you are a landmark on the My Bitch trail now.
Someone has built a shack down in the creekbed. Hope that works out for them during rainy season.
Laundry and bath day down in the creek (I really need to remember to use my zoom. Sorry!)
My first cookie delivery on the day
I don’t know this tree’s history, but it has impressive roots.
Another climb
A major intersection on the trail we call “Four Corners.”
My Bitch goes thataway
Looking back to Alta Vista
The remains of this house have been like this for the five years I’ve been hiking past.
Hello there, youngsters. Part of the family that has been living the mountain life since long before I started walking by.
Roosters and goats and harvesting bamboo are how they eke out a living here.
That’s Jennifer and her kids. Scott has photos of her (circa 2006) when she was a kid herself.
And there’s the hardworking mountain mama I’ve always called Olivia. We recently became Facebook friends, and it turns out her name is Onelia. For all these years, she never corrected me.
This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is sb33-1024x768.jpg
Another look at Onelia’s compound
We call this spot “3rd family,” and there used to be a large compound here too. Just a memory now.
Those houses down there are on Rizal Extension, where My Bitch will take me.
One of my cookie stops, but no one was around yesterday
But I found a new recipient a bit further up the trail.
That really gets my goat
An Easter Mountain view
The way ahead
My friend MJ lives here. She’s one of my support projects and also my part-time masseuse.
And here’s where my trek on My Bitch comes to an end. Right at 3K from start to finish.
But I still have to get home. Starting with a long walk down Rizal Extension.
Through this narrow passageway
Past Columban College
Then Jasmine Street. Or is Jasmin?
Welcome to the Philippines!
La Cambra
Then Jolo
Then up Del Pilar
And on to the National Highway and a lunch stop at Sit-n-Bull
I kind of made a dick of myself on this hike, didn’t I?
That’s better. A tad over 6K for my Sunday adventure.
My club sandwich lunch. And if you are counting the carbs, I gave half of it to my helper.

I did my usual afternoon routines (nap, blog, and Netflix), then it was off to Hideaway for the Sunday feeding.

I’d never seen the bar this crowded before. I had to sit at a table in the back.
The food I ordered arrived from Jewel Cafe
Four orders of garlic prawns
Four orders of pork sisig
And Tocino with rice and egg for Joy.
Choco Pie for dessert
Joy’s seal of approval
That big crowd I mentioned earlier all left before I did. And I didn’t even have gas.

When it was time to leave my Hideaway, I wanted to try something on the newer end of the bar spectrum. Mugshots was open, and so I popped in.

And I was the only customer for the duration of my visit.
And that meant I had exclusive access to bartender Tina (they don’t have GROs or waitresses, but I bought Tina a lady drink anyway). Those chicken wings were part of a special offer: buy wings and get a free beer. I wasn’t that hungry, but Tina was happy to help me finish them.

I enjoyed my visit to Mugshots and do intend to stop in on a more regular basis in the future. I was going to do the Green Room for my nightcap, but they were jammed packed with customers, so I went next door to Wet Spot and had one more for the road, then triked home safe and sound.

I was feeling the gay pride on my morning dog walk today:

Not sure what God is trying to tell me. I already know I’m his gift to women.
And these USDA ribeye steaks were delivered to my door this morning.
The steaks were high, though; that’s a hundred dollars worth of meat. I’ll have to be super careful when I grill them. I don’t want to be burning through my cash.

And finally, it’s Memorial Day, and it is my tradition to honor my great Uncle Frank Foltz, who was killed by a German sniper a little more than a month before the end of the war. He’s the only member of my clan that I know of who was killed in the service of our nation.

And he’s one more arrow flying through the air
One more arrow landing in a shady spot somewhere
Where the days and nights blend into one
And he can always feel the sun
Through the soft brown earth that holds him
Forever always young.

That’s all there is

Welp, this is one of those posts that didn’t need to be written (did I hear someone say, aren’t they all like that?). Nothing of significance or interest occurred during my Saturday night on the town, but let me tell you about it anyway.

I baked up a batch of my brownies to share with the girls, but it wasn’t clear in my mind which girls. I thought I might change things up and treat the Blue Butterfly crew, but I changed my mind as I walked into town and went to Cheap Charlies instead.

I had the usual CC experience–Alma on my right, Nerissa on my left, and Inez giving me a back rub. I told some jokes, and they laughed while enjoying their lady drinks and brownies. I drank gin and soda. As the dinner hour approached, I considered ordering something from Foodies downstairs, but the visual image of that Philly cheesesteak sandwich from John’s place overruled that thought. I paid my tab and headed up the highway.

When I arrived at John’s, a sign on the door said, “Closed for emergency repairs.” I stood there with a WTF expression on my face until one of the upstairs waitresses called to me, saying they were doing electrical work and would reopen in one or two hours. Damn, that was disappointing.

I crossed the highway (I always walk facing traffic) and headed back to my side of town. A light rain began to fall, so I took refuge in Blue Butterfly. I’m hardly ever here unless it’s a Hash On-Home, but the waitresses all knew my name. Two of them joined me at my table, including Tanya, a former Hasher I’ve written about before.

Heh, here’s a picture from the post I linked from January of this year. The same two waitresses joined me last night. I STILL don’t recall the name of the one on the right, and at this point, I’m too embarrassed to ask.

Anyway, it was the usual chitchat that comes with a lady drink. Although out of the blue, Tanya mentioned how much she missed my brownies! I didn’t have the heart to tell her about the ones I had baked earlier for my aborted mission to Blue Butterfly. I’ll definitely bring some next time I come here.

I still needed some food in my belly, so I continued my journey down the highway, ultimately deciding to visit Wet Spot, where I could order something from Sit-n-Bull to eat. It was still early, but it wasn’t busy, and none of the people I usually entertain (or do they entertain me?) were around. So, I sat alone, ate my soft-shell chicken tacos (without the rice and bean sides), then headed out.

My next and last stop for the evening was Whiskey Girl. My regular waitress, Jen, wasn’t around, and all the other girls were in the “ignoring me” mode. I even had to get up and go to the bar to order my second drink. That’s a little distressing when I can’t even pay for attention or company.

Oh, I had messaged my friend earlier that I wouldn’t be attending the private party at Snackbar. Then I got a message from my ex there asking where I was. I just responded that I was taking a break. I guess she assumed that meant from drinking (fat chance of that!) because she replied, “Good.” Anyway, as fate would have it, “the Dick” (my rival from the past) was at Whiskey Girl when I arrived. Not long after he left, my ex messaged me that the Dick said I was at Whiskey, but maybe it was my twin. She had a laughing emoji at the end of her message, but the implication was that I had lied earlier, and I guess, in a way, I had. So, I responded that it was me at Whiskey, and I didn’t come to the party because I wasn’t ready to relive old memories. She answered, “Okay,” and we left it at that.

And then something nice happened at Whiskey Girl. An attractive young woman walked past my table, hesitated, then returned and greeted me. It was a nice gesture after being ignored earlier. If I recall correctly, her name is Niki, and I invited her to join me. Turns out, it was her first night at work and first time working in a bar. So, I guess, in a sense, I took her cherry with the lady drink I bought her. Actually, I wound up buying her two. I’ll have a new WG favorite next time I visit, assuming she’s still working by then. Lots of the girls don’t enjoy the bargirl experience, and Niki is a dancer, which to me is the most challenging job of all—standing up on a stage like meat on display at the market. I feel more pity than lust when watching them wait for a customer. I hope it works out for her.

I’d had enough, literally and figuratively, so I caught a trike for home. I finished season five of Lucifer (one more season to go) and went to bed.

And if you made it this far into this post, you must be thinking: “Is that all there is?” And the answer to that is, yes, that’s all there is.

I know what you must be saying to yourselves
“If that's the way she feels about it
Why doesn't she just end it all”
Oh, no, not me
I'm in no hurry for that final disappointment
Cause I know just as well as I'm standing here talking to you
That when that final moment comes and I'm breathing my last breath
I'll be saying to myself

Is that all there is
Is that all there is
If that's all there is, my friends
Then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
If that's all there is

Best of times

Only me and Scott again for the Friday hike, so we took advantage of the opportunity to get creative. Scott had wanted to do a Tibag to Subic walk for quite some time, but we never had adequate transport to the start at the Army checkpoint on the road to Tibag. With just us two, we hired a trike to get us there.

The trek itself was long and hot and didn’t exactly go as planned. Shortly after leaving the road, we lost the trail and had to rough it down a creekbed until we found a path that eventually led us to our intended course. The bottom of the creekbed was ankle-deep in mud. Not a pretty sight, but in the end, we prevailed and wound up having an enjoyable but tiring walk to our destination.

A very scenic walk with only a couple of small ups suited our preferences nicely.
Our trike driver from Barretto agreed to carry us to the Tibag checkpoint for 200 pesos, but it was a longer and harder drive than I expected, so I gave him an extra hundred.
Hmm, I’ve been calling it the Tibag checkpoint, but I see now it is technically Naugsol. It’s actually equidistant between the two barangays.
One of the defenders. I presume they are looking for NPA (National People’s Army) insurrectionists. The whole time I’ve lived here, I have never heard of any attacks or sabotage in this part of the country.
These friendly locals were there to greet us as we began our journey. (Scott worked his people camera magic throughout the hike).
And we are off with Scott in the lead.
And here I come
Hung out to dry
The view from here
Walkin’ down a country road
On and on we go
Leaving the road behind
Almost like a walk in the park
A busy family
Time out for cookies
This friendly gent tried to direct us to the trail we sought, but his English was no better than our Tagalog.
The biggest damn rooster farm I ever did see.
Another cookie delivery
These kind gals tried to point us to the path we needed, but we somehow missed it.
It’s been said that when you are lost in the wilds, follow the creek downstream, so that’s what we did. Not easy, but better than bushwhacking through the overgrown shrubs surrounding it.
And eventually, I spotted a path leading up and out of the creekbed. To where we did not know.
That creekbed was dirty work!
And it was so hot I appeared to be sweating blood.
In an encouraging sign that civilization was nearby, we found this shelter and used it.
And then, a bit further on, we came to this residence
And the kind folks who live there got us back on the right path at last.
It was smooth sailing (well, walking) the rest of the way
Bet you’ve never seen a stick farm before

That’s how the hike went down. We had a Jeepney ride back to Barretto from the Waltermart in Subic. I came home and washed the mud caked on my legs off, then waited for Mary’s arrival.

Mary wanted chili, and this is what she got.

After our late lunch and a nap, we headed into town for some Friday evening fun. I opted not to do the SOB this week, so we made Sloppy Joe’s our first stop.

Inside the outside of Sloppy Joe’s
And outside the inside

Chris was playing the music and taking requests, and his gal kept Mary engaged in conversation. My pal Jim was also in attendance, so it was a friendly social gathering.

When it came time to move on, I suggested crossing the highway and taking advantage of Thumbstar’s “buy one, take one” special on drinks and food. Jim joined us. I did two chicken shwarmas and washed them down with half-priced beer. I’d call that a win.

Jim was going to end his evening at Alley Cats (he lives on the same alley), and I decided to join him. I used to be there three nights a week for darts, but it had been months since my last visit. There were no customers when we arrived, and the crew seemed genuinely glad to see me. Especially after I rang the bell for a round of lady drinks. And then I rang it again. Two bell rings may be a first for me, but I was caught up in the spirit of old times.

Nice to see you again, everyone!

Mary came home with me and spent the night. After breakfast, we had dessert, and then I walked with her to Divimart, where I surprised her with a new phone. Then I put her on a Jeepney for home and took a short walk on a hot morning.

In other news, Super Typhoon Betty is going to give us a near miss but dump some rain and wind our way starting tomorrow.

That blows

I wasn’t sure what to do with my Saturday night. A friend invited me to a Snackbar party, but I don’t think I’m up for it. John Kim just now posted this to Facebook:

Premium Philly Cheese Steak sandwich.

Sliced USDA Rib Fingers with homemade cheddar sauce using the cheese from Wisconsin. It’s a dream come true Philly Cheese Steak sandwich that nobody dares to spend this much on material cost in this town.

For limited time, p495 at John’s Sushi and Steakhouse.

So I think I know what I’m having for dinner, at least. Yeah, it’s not on the diet, but sometimes you need to make exceptions.

And after that, who knows? These are the best of times.

Farewell to Kokomo

Off of Baloy Beach
there's a place called Kokomo
That's where you wanna go
to get away from it all

I made my usual Thursday trek out to Baloy Beach for my weekly change of scenery from the Barretto vistas.

The skies were full of thunder, but the rain never came.
My ultimate destination was Kokomo’s floating bar.

As soon as I boarded, I noticed there was an unusual party vibe going on. That was facilitated by a youngish two-week millionaire ringing the bell (free drinks for all the ladies). It was also more crowded than usual. I ordered a beer, and when it arrived, I was given a coupon for a free beer. The bartender advised that it was the last night of the season and the floating bar would be docked safely away for the duration of the stormy months (usually until October). So, I was happy that I hadn’t missed out on the going away party.

I’ll need to find a new venue for my Thursday nights. I’ll miss the good times on Kokomo!

I stayed at the floating bar longer than usual, but once the buy one, get one free beer promotion ended and the partiers had dispersed, I paid my tab and made my way to shore. I walked back to the highway and then decided to end my night at the Snackbar.

I was the only customer, so I got lots of attention from three of my old favorites. Naturally, I rewarded their kindness with some lady drinks.
Lydell was wearing her Sunday shorts…they are Holey.

Anyway, not a bad night out.

Today is the 12th anniversary of my father’s passing. He made it to 83, so that gives me some hope for the future.

I mentioned in a caption yesterday that Joy was “eating her taco with a fork.” Commenter Kevin noted that most people USE a fork to eat, not as a side dish. I get his point. And then this morning, I saw this sign:

A restaurant called Pork & Spoon. I guess it is all a matter of taste.

I also thought of Kevin when I saw this:

It proves that failure to use proper punctuation can be a matter of life or death.

That’s about all I’ve got for now. Except for this:

A crockpot full of chili con carne y frijoles
And some cornbread muffins, carbs be damned!

Mary messaged me a few days ago that she had been craving my chili. She’s on her way now to enjoy some. We’ll take it from there.

Everybody knows a little place like Kokomo
Now if you wanna go to get away from it all
Go down to Kokomo

Life’s a bay

It was only Scott and me for yesterday’s hike, so we kept it flat and relatively easy. 7+K on a hot day was all the challenge we needed. Most of the walk was in the villages of the Matain and Calapacuan barangays. The people we encountered were poor but friendly, and it was nice to stroll amongst them. Scott took many of the pictures I’ll be sharing of the locals, and he’s good at capturing their smiles.

The route taken by both of the Wednesday Walkers
In news that is unlikely to be of any interest to my readers, we will soon have our very own Puregold grocery store here in Barretto. The Divimart sucked so bad I’d very rarely visit, so hopefully, this replacement will be of some use in between my weekly excursions to Royal.
My fellow hiker bayside in Matain
Local ladies
Local guys
Local kids lovin’ some cookies (or biscuits, as they call them)
Boats on the beach
And boats on the water
“I’m takin’ what they’re givin’ ’cause I’m workin’ for a livin'” Actually, it looks like he’s cooking something he took from the bay.
Not sure I’d want to eat anything that came out of that water, though
Life is hard enough when you are poor, but to be wheelchair-bound must make everything infinitely harder
Peace be unto you

One of the highlights of our trek was discovering the remains of an old resort on Paradise Beach. Scott was a Navy man stationed here in the 1970s, and he’d heard of it but never been. As we were walking down the street, we saw a narrow passageway and decided to see where it went. Turns out, it was the path to Paradise!

One of several abandoned buildings
And another
A nice view of Snake Island from Paradise
Whatever it was is gone now
We climbed up this rockface to see what else we could see
A lovely bay view
The waterslide at the Whiterock resort next door
Another Whiterock view
These lads showed us around Paradise. I gave them cookies, and Scott gave them some pesos.
The main entrance to the Whiterock resort. It seems there is something called a “gender sensitive capacity development interventions” taking place. Whatever the hell that might be.
The welcoming committee in Calapacuan
Walking down the market street in Calapacuan
Waterside living. Just don’t drink it!
Laundry day
Road work
This narrow passage ain’t just for pussies!
Getting wired. I wonder if it is just a coincidence that my power has been out all morning? (this post is coming to you via my mobile hotspot)
We did our after-hike lunch at the newest eatery in Barretto, the Sparrows Cafe. I had the garlic parmesan chicken wings, and they were just okay. They also don’t serve beer or alcohol, so it is unlikely to be a regular stop for me.

It was a good day to be gettin’ in the steps.

I came up with a new strategy for the Wednesday feeding at Hideaway. I give Joy the cash and let her buy what she wants for the crew. Last night she went to The Coffee Shop for some of their famous tacos.

Joy had already broken up the shell before I thought to take a photo. The tacos are huge and really can’t be picked up and eaten like you would a normal-sized offering.
Eating a taco with a fork
And a blueberry muffin for dessert

I did my nightcap at Wet Spot, then headed home early again. I guess watching TV before bed is my new routine. At least for now.

Something else new for me is my seeming unwillingness to pay for sex. It’s not that I can’t afford it; I just don’t want it. I had to turn down two offers yesterday and another one this morning. The hardest part is that these gals seem truly desperate for money and are willing to do what they must to earn it, but I’ve also gotten better at being less generous. I’ve got my regular projects, and they pretty much max out my charity budget. Ah, well, it is just part of the territory that comes with living here.

In the memory department, yesterday was the 7th anniversary of the passing of my dear friend, Bridget Werner.

You were truly one of a kind, and I miss having you in my life. RIP, my friend.

Damn, I hope the power comes back on soon. I need a shower.

It’s a Thai

A productive day yesterday, at least by my standards. But first, there’s this:

My brand new laptop computer. Ain’t she a beaut?

This post is the first time I’ve used it, and I can already tell there will be an adjustment period. One thing I’ve noticed since the first sentence I typed is that the keyboard layout is slightly different from my old computer. I mean, all the keys are in the same order, but the spacing is different, so I’m mistyping much more frequently than usual. Bear woth ,e (that’s an actual example of what I’m talking about).

I also went and looked at a house coming up for rent here in the neighborhood. It’s in rough condition, but the landlord is willing to make all the necessary repairs and upgrades–provided I agree to pay the rent one year in advance. Hmm, tempting, but after sleeping on it, I decided against moving for now. I just signed a one-year lease here, and I’m uncomfortable risking breaking that for something that may not work out (i.e., I give the advance money, and she doesn’t make the promised repairs). I’ll just wait until the work is done or I find a better place.

But damn, I would love to sit on the balcony and enjoy this view every day…

The other productive thing I accomplished was booking a flight and securing lodging for a week in Pattaya, Thailand, next month. Yep, I’m finally going to get off my lazy ass and escape Barretto for a change of scenery. Hopefully, this trip will rekindle my love of travel and will be the first of many adventures to come. I’m not getting any younger, after all.

Nothing special about my night on the town. I started at Cheap Charlies and did my gin and soda thing with the intermittent can of soda water.

Look at all them zeros!

Anyway, I avoided the falling-down drunk bullshit. The only real downside is each drink cost me double (except for the intervening can of soda). Then I had the bright idea of going to Whiskey Girl to take advantage of their “buy one, get one” happy hour pricing. So, my shot of gin is 110 pesos, and I get the soda water for free.

I made it back home by 8:00 p.m. and spent some more time with Lucifer. I promise to do a write-up with my impressions once I finish season six, the end of the series (I’m halfway through season five now).

Just me and Scott on the Wednesday walk today, and we did something nice and sensible and suitable for a couple of old fuckers. I’ll share some photos tomorrow.

This is definitely NOT on my bucket list.

Time to shower up and head out for the feeding at Hideaway. And I hope everyone enjoyed Siblings Day:

A donkey and a dumb ass.

A path less traveled

I almost skipped yesterday’s Hash. The fact that the trail started way out near the top of Rizal Extension was one pain in the ass factor. The On-Home was at the private residence of Malibog Mountain Momma, which is also off the beaten path at the end of Rizal Extension and meant my drunken stumble home after the Hash would be more perilous than usual (trikes that far out are few and far between). But Pubic Head suggested we do a “sane” trail that started in Alta Vista and avoided the main ups and downs of the Hare’s intended path. So, that’s what we did.

What Leech My Nuggets had planned for us…
The yellow is the path my group took instead
Just a handful of us did the alternative trail
Off we go! The skies were threatening, and the thunder was rolling, but the expected raindrops never fell.
That mountain we climb at Easter
Only one moderate climb on our chosen path
But that didn’t stop us from taking a breather halfway up.
Damn, what was it I ate last night that left me feeling so gassy today?
Sorry about that, ladies. That’s why they call me an old fart.
A view from on high. Yep, it is burning season again.
Looking back toward the water
And a valley view
And we did connect with the intended trail near the end of our hike
The steps of a resting development
It was nice seeing my mountain friend, MJ, again.
Onward we go!
My favorite view from the hike
Down we go!
Our On-Home venue. The old timers tell me that when the guy who built this place out in the wilderness was still alive, the Hash On-Home here was a regular event. It was nice of the widow to have us out again for old times’ sake.
It’s on a sizeable tiered lot, well maintained and landscaped.
Hanging out
Sitting around
Circle up!
I got the Hashit, the Subic Hashit
For being stupid on trail today
I have to hold it until I pass it
Won’t someone take my Hashit away?
Drink it down, down, down, down…

At the conclusion of the Hash circle, I began the long trek down Rizal Extension into town. Luck was with me, though, and an empty trike appeared before I had logged a kilometer.

I briefly attended the after-Hash gathering at It Doesn’t Matter.

And so ended another Hash Monday.

What’s in store for tonight?

More of the same old, same old, no doubt

All or nothing

Pretty much a nothing at all kind of day.

A 7K+ street walk through the Santa Monica subdivision and Matain barangay to start my morning.

Implemented the usual daylight time fillers (blog, nap, Netflix), then I headed out for the Hideaway feeding.

I purchased the usual dinner delights from Jewel Cafe for the girls.

They seemed to go down well.

I also implemented my plan to reduce my beer intake by 50%–henceforth, I will only imbibe brewed beverages every other day. I filled the void last night by reacquainting myself with gin and soda (zero carbs). In an effort to avoid previous pratfalls associated with gin ingestion, I’ve instituted a “buy one, skip one” scheme. The way that works is I have a shot of gin in a tall glass with a whole can of soda water to refill the glass as I drink. So, that waters down the one shot significantly. When that drink is gone, I order a can of plain soda water and no gin. So, by alternating between alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages, I enhance my ability to maintain some semblance of sobriety. Hopefully, no more falling down drunk nights for me. It worked out pretty well last night.

I did my nightcap at The Green Room. I met someone there (a non-employee acquaintance) who was more than willing to come home and spend the night with me. I was tempted but ultimately rejected her advances. I’m not sure why exactly; maybe I just wasn’t in the mood. But I also sensed she was a potential drama queen, and as empty as my life might be, I don’t have room for that. I was second-guessing myself all the way home, but when I woke up alone this morning, I felt like I had made the right call.

Some of my long-time readers may be thinking, “Who is this guy?” I’m not sure what’s going on either; perhaps it is just a transitory phase, or it could be I’ve had enough meaninglessness. I need to find better ways to fill the voids in my life.

Wish me luck!

Solitary Saturday night

After five years of Saturday nights in the bars of Barretto, I’ve come to realize that you can be alone, even when you are with somebody. It turns out paid company ain’t much different than an empty barstool. Well, I think I’ve always known that on some level, but lately, that truth seems harder to ignore. It’ll be okay; I just need to embrace the reality of solitude and enjoy my “me time.”

I started my day with a longer-than-usual solo walk. From step one, my body seemed to say, “Let’s not do this,” but I ignored myself and pushed on.

My standard Saturday solo street walk normally ends at Sit-n-Bull. Yesterday, I kept on going, including making the climb back up to Alta Vista.

I had a sugar-free bowl of pudding for lunch (okay, I sprinkled in some raisins), took a nap, blogged, watched a little TV, then headed into town to experience the Saturday nightlife, such as it is.

I made It Doesn’t Matter my first stop. It had been a while since my last visit, and I felt a little guilty about that. I was pretty shocked when I arrived to see there were NO other customers seated outside. I’d never seen that before, especially on a Saturday. The music was also blaring so loud I had to shout for the waitress to hear my drink order (I decided to make it a San Miguel Zero night). Bob would never have countenanced that kind of volume. When I asked the waitress to turn it down, she did without hesitation. I settled in to enjoy my beer and watch the world pass by, and before long, two other waitresses I know by sight but not by name joined me. We played the twenty questions game–where do you live, do you have a wife, etc. Now, on paper, I’m married, but the reality is I’ve been single for over six years now. The waitresses were surprised I didn’t have a girlfriend and asked why, and I honestly replied that I have a low tolerance for drama. Anyway, the nice thing about the first time chatting with bargirls is that all of my jokes are new, so I proceeded to go through my repertoire, and they laughed in all the right places. I rewarded their diligence and devotion to duty with a lady drink while I enjoyed my second beer of the day.

I was ready for something more substantial to eat, so I burned some calories by walking to John’s place for some dinner.

I figured the beef bulgogi was a safe choice. It comes with rice, but I gave that to my waitress. Washed it down with another Zero.

After my meal, I headed back up the highway and passed a barber shop with no customers inside. It had been two weeks since I discovered that my former salon was now barberless, so I took advantage of the opportunity to get my ears lowered. The barber here did a nice job, so it looks like I have a new home for haircuts.

Now what? I hesitated as I passed by Blue Butterfly, but I didn’t see any other customers, just a passel of thirsty bargirls. I wasn’t in the mood to fend them off; maybe next time. I considered Mugshots (they don’t have GROs), but drinking alone can be boring, so I kept walking. When I got to Cheap Charlies, I figured why not and climbed the steps to the third-floor venue.

I was surprised to encounter this group of Hash buddies in the midst of a bar crawl. No, I almost never get invited along. Jim says it’s because I’m perceived as a loner. Alrighty, then. They did mention that IDM would be their next stop, but I said I’d already been there. When they left, I saw them enter Hot Zone across the street. I would have been happy to join them there. Oh well.

Nerissa and Alma were ready, willing, and able to be my drinking buddies, and I played along. I got a nice back rub, too. When it was time to move on, I continued down the highway with no clear destination in mind. Sloppy Joe’s looked enticing as I approached, so I popped in.

I didn’t know any of the customers, and the one waitress I was familiar with seemed preoccupied with someone else. I did get a beer when I sat down, but I had to raise my hand to get offered a second one. When that bottle was empty, I waited for someone to come around, but no one did before my patience was exhausted. So, I got up, went inside to pay my 150 peso tab, and was handed a stack of ten 5 peso coins wrapped in plastic for change. Okay, I understand not giving me a 50 peso note as that might preclude my leaving a tip. I was expecting two twenties and two coins, but to pay me with wrapped coins and a shrug seemed insulting somehow. I left the coins on the tray and walked out.

I guess I was just in one of those moods. Came home, watched some more Lucifer (I’m into season five now), then escaped into sleep.

I’m not exactly sure what’s going on with me. I mean, I’m fine with things as they are but would be open to some new adventures. I really need to get off my lazy ass and plan some long-overdue travel. That idea of having multiple girlfriends for different days of the week isn’t exactly working out. Joy was supposed to join me on Thursday but wanted to meet up when I was going home. Nope, if you don’t want to spend time with me on a bar hop, I don’t care about you spending the night with me. The whole point was companionship; I don’t care so much about sex, especially when there is an expectation of compensation. I guess things went okay with Mary on Friday, although that almost fifty-year age gap doesn’t leave much common ground for interaction. And, of course, my hopes for Angie disappeared like a 500 peso note from the kitchen table.

So, it is what it is, and what it is is good enough. For now, anyway.

This Facebook memory from seven years ago was a kick in the nuts.

I’ve moved on with my life, of course, but I haven’t felt that kind of happiness and satisfaction since Jee Yeun dumped me.

On the health front, here’s one of the new vitamins Dr. Jo has me taking:

Gotta keep my liver happy. I give it a daily workout, that’s for sure.

My FB memories feed also included this gem (I probably posted it here, too, but it is worth remembering):

And that’s all I’ve got to say for now.

InSOBriety

Friday night at the SOB is never a SOBering experience. Mary joined me for yesterday’s performance, and for some reason known only to her, she decided to drink shots of tequila. It didn’t end well. Near the conclusion of the event, a guy sitting on the other side of me motioned toward Mary and said, “You better check on your girl.” When I turned around, I saw that she had vomited all the free-finger foods she had consumed. To her credit, she cleaned up the mess as best as she could with napkins. Someone came with a mop, and I hustled her out of there. It was still a little embarrassing, but at least this time, I wasn’t the source of the problem. We took a trike home, and she wasn’t acting drunk. She washed her clothes in my bathroom while I made us smoothies. We watched an episode of Lucifer together, then went to bed.

I had grilled these steaks on Friday afternoon and served the leftover one to Mary this morning for breakfast. She seemed to enjoy it.
That’s a USDA ribeye, and I ordered a thick-cut version this time—very juicy and tender.

Dessert this morning was also quite satisfying.

As usual, Friday started with a group hike. No one had any better ideas, so I opted to lead us on a Naugsol valley excursion. It was a very hot day, and there was little shade along the way. I kept reminding myself that I’d be complaining about the rain soon enough. I made it back home with just over 7K under my belt.

The route we walked
The group who walked it
Off we go
Out of Alta Vista
Down and dirty
An Easter Mountain perspective
The gals lagged behind collecting mangoes and veggies they found along the way.
The rainy season will arrive in another month or so, and these valley walks will not be possible.
Hot but beautiful
Valley living
A tree I liked
Marching on
A hot tin roof but no cats in sight
Puddle jumpers. You can see the bag of treasures Angie collected along the way.
Back up to Alta Vista

That was pretty much my day. We’ll see what happens next.

Ain’t dead yet

I had a good visit with Dr. Jo and her husband yesterday to discuss the results of my recent blood diagnostics. As mentioned earlier, I had several above-normal readings and one below-the-normal range. Only two were of immediate concern: The FBS (hexokinase) reading of 6.35 (normal is 3.89-5.49) classifies as “pre-diabetic,” and the red blood cell count of 4.57 (normal is 4.63-6.08).

I’ve been having some breathing issues again recently, and the low red blood cells could be a contributing factor. Dr. Jo gave me a B-12 injection and recommended getting one every 7-10 days to improve my blood chemistry. The cure for my blood sugar issues is not surprisingly diet related–I need to cut back on the carbs. I’ve been there and done that (lost 35kgs in the process), so I know it can be achieved with the right motivation and self-discipline. I must let go of my love for ice cream, cakey snacks, bread, potatoes, and other carb-rich foods.

But what about beer? Both doctors know me well enough that they assumed beer would remain my primary source of carbohydrates. Well, maybe not. As much as I like drinking beer, I think I can find ways to reduce my intake. Now, don’t get me wrong–I’m not giving up the bar scene; that’s a bridge too far. So, my thinking now is I will try renewing my relationship with gin, at least on a part-time basis. I need to find better ways to control my intake and level of inebriation, something I failed at previously. My plan this go-round is to do my gin and soda and then partake a can of soda water in between drinks. That will slow down my alcohol intake without reducing my bar time. We’ll see how that works out for me.

The blood work also indicates I may have some allergy issues, so I have some new meds for that. And a liver indicator was a tad high as well, which is really no surprise given my daily alcohol intake. My cutting-back plan should help there as well. But overall, most of my indicators look good, and I’m doing alright for an old guy. I need to make the lifestyle adjustments now to keep it that way.

I ain’t goin’ nowhere. I hope.

After my appointment, it was going on three o’clock. It didn’t seem worthwhile to go all the way back home just to turn around and come back to town at beer o’clock. Sloppy Joe’s is practically next door to Dr. Jo’s clinic, so I popped in there to consider my options. And yes, I hydrated with a San Mig Zero. At the conclusion of my second beer, the thought occurred to me that I could pass some time and get some additional steps in by walking to Baloy Beach and then visiting the floating bar there. So, I set about doing that when suddenly, there was a cloudburst, and the raindrops were falling on my head.

I took shelter at the Outback poolside bar and watched the rain until the storm had passed.
After the storm, I made my way to Baloy and caught the raft to the floater.
I was the only customer for most of my visit, so I stayed until the sun went down.

I walked back to the highway, then decided to pay a visit to one of my old haunts, Snackbar. The memories there tend to make me sad, and last night was no exception. I finished my beer and caught a trike home.

It wasn’t even eight yet, so I watched a couple of more Lucifer episodes. I didn’t want the rocky road ice cream in the freezer to tempt me once I start my low-carb diet, so I took it out and ate it all in one sitting. Hey, the devil made me do it!

And just to keep these health-related issues in perspective, here’s something my favorite restauranteur, John Kim, posted on Facebook yesterday:

I was just at emergency room again because I couldn’t breathe well. That was why I was asking if anyone has 2nd hand oxygen tank that was not being used. I know where I can buy them, but my medical bill is eating up everything we have that it’s very hard to buy anything new. People look at me as if I’m unlucky with my situation and give me the sympathy look.

Well, here’s story of my life that you can judge whether I am unlucky or not. I came to the Philippines with my family, as early retirement. I had Korean wife and two sons. I thought things were doing good, but one day, my wife packed and left. So did my sons. I was devastated and started drinking a lot and also gotten into gambling. I was always shit drunk when I went to casino and gradually lost everything. I became broke and alcoholic. I was ready to leave the country but I met my girl, Lin.

She took me knowing I have nothing. I stopped all the bad habits, not because she told me so, but I just wanted to prove to her that I can get back on my feet. It’s 11th year that I live with Lin, but she’s never told me what to do or what not to do. We both worked hard and started get our lives on track, but getting paid in the Philippines was a joke, and we decided to work for our own. So we started frying chicken from our home and started delivering to Koreans. That’s how we started our restaurant business.

We had ups and downs but we manage to come this far. She is excellent cook and she does most of work. She trains new cook, accounting, purchasing and general work of entire place. When I started getting dialysis, she started working 18 hours a day to help out for my medical bill. And she doesn’t even have a washing machine. She often hand washes all our clothes, while all our emplyees get paid the most in town.

I’m probably one of the luckiest guys on planet. I can’t afford to get depressed. My one day is equivalent to one or two weeks of others. These days, I go out with my friends more than ever. I even go bar hop with friends, which I’ve never done in several years. It’s funny that I am enjoying my life more than ever.

Good luck to you, John. Keep fighting!

Cast in the valley

The Wednesday Walkers group invaded Castillejos yesterday and had us a sweet hike in the flatlands. We hadn’t been out that way for three years or so, and it was nice to rediscover this beautiful landscape.

Our 6K jaunt took us from the outskirts of Subic to the heart of Castillejos in a roundabout fashion.
We rode this Jeepney from Barretto to the beginning of our trail.
My four fellow walkers for yesterday’s journey.
Where it all began
And we are on our way!
Flower power!
More power to them!
off the pavement
The view from here (Scott’s version)
The view from here (my take). Actually, I like the village in Scott’s shot and the clouds in mine. I couldn’t decide which one I liked best, so I’m posting both.
That’s about the extend of our ciimbing
A lonely dwelling
Heading for the valley floor
Gettin’ down!
Bottomed out
Yeah, we were looking for the trail, and I chose this direction.
And they went thataway
A cross-country trek
Back on our intended path
Anyone up for a climb? Yeah, I’m such a poser.
A downed tree
A flowering tree
And a big ass tree
Taking stock: A carabao
A goat
And some cows
A valley view
Valley living
Trekking onward
Looking for a place to cross that river behind us
We are in the farmer’s dell…hi ho the derry-o…
There’s nowhere to go but onward
A friendly local
That’s one way to get around.
Swingin’ in the breeze
Of all the trailside litter I’ve encountered, this is the first time I’ve seen an abandoned suitcase.
A river runs through it…
Why did the hiker cross the river? To get to the other side, of course.
Come on in; the water’s fine!
In a mangrove
Castillejos, here we come!
Still some roadwork to do.
Another piece of interesting litter. What kind of dick would do this?
Glad I’m retired.
This old lady seemed to be looking for the foreigner boyfriend who dumped her all those years ago. It wasn’t me!
Friendly trike drivers
Almost done with the journey
Where it ended. This place just opened up on Saturday.
Meat’s on the grill
Fries on my plate

It was a good day on trail, despite some raindrops.

Later in the evening, I went to Hideaway Bar for the Wednesday feeding session. Only six girls were working, so I didn’t buy a pizza this week.

Chicken…
…and pork

Rice and brownies, too, of course.

Joy had something called Chixsa…not sure what that is, but it looked similar to a pizza.

I did my nightcap at Green Room and bought more lady drinks than I intended. On the way out, I passed through Wet Spot, and Aine tried to get my attention, but I just kept walking. It wasn’t even 8 p.m. yet, but I was ready for some Lucifer.

Doctor’s appointment this afternoon, and I’m hoping the news won’t be the death of me. Only one way to find out!

Get it while you can

I’m still alive and kicking, and until I’m not, I’m going to keep on doing what I do. I’m not saying what I do is anything special, but I will get it while I can. Take yesterday, for example:

I picked up the results of my blood diagnostics (that’s page 1 of 6)

I tested high (above the normal range) in FBS, cholesterol, uric acid, GGT, mean corpuscular volume, eosinophil, and basophil. My red blood cells were below normal. I have no idea what all that means, but I hope to find out tomorrow afternoon when I pay a visit to Dr. Jo. I’m mostly concerned about the FBS (hexokinase)–my 6.35 reading (the normal range is 3.89-5.49) places me in the “pre-diabetic” category. My mother was diabetic during the final years of her life, and I definitely don’t want to go there. It will be interesting to discover what lifestyle changes may await me.

I also did my usual grocery shopping excursion.

Out of the cart…
Then out of my pocket. Prices continue to rise, and desired items non-sensibly continue to be out of stock. Still, I’m blessed that I can afford to live like a king compared to many of the locals in my community.

I’m ordering a new laptop through my pal Jim’s good graces (it will be shipped from the USA via his brother). My current keyboard is reluctant to type “o” and “l,” making writing even more challenging. I stopped by Jim’s place to see the model he’s going to order; then, we went out for some beers at Cheap Charlies and the Annex Bar.

When my hunger overwhelmed my thirst, I said farewell and headed up the highway to John’s place.

This pulled pork sandwich did the trick.

Since I was practically right across the street from Hideaway, I decided to pop in and give Joy a surprise. I was the day’s first customer, and you could sense how desperate the girls were for lady drink commissions something to drink. I obliged by ringing the bell (buying everyone a drink), something I rarely do, but seeing as how I was the first best customer, I felt a sense of duty to do so. (damn, there were a lot of “o’s” in that sentence.)

A bit later, Joy said she was hungry, so I sent one of the girls out to get some rice and chicken. Of course, I’ll also be back tonight for the regular Wednesday feeding. I’m just glad I’m healthy enough to go out on these drinking excursions missions of mercy. Nothing lasts forever, so I’d better grab the opportunities while I can!

Via Facebook memories, here’s a bit of humor I’ve shared in the past:

Man: Haven’t I seen you someplace before?

Woman: Yes, that’s why I don’t go there anymore.

Man: Is this seat empty?

Woman: Yes, and this one will be if you sit down.

Man: Your place or mine?

Woman: Both. You go to yours, and I’ll go to mine.

Man: So, what do you do for a living?

Woman: I’m a female impersonator.

Man: Hey baby, what’s your sign?

Woman: Do not enter.

Man: How do you like your eggs in the morning?

Woman: Unfertilized.

Man: Your body is like a temple.

Woman: Sorry, there are no services today.

Man: I would go to the end of the world for you.

Woman: But would you stay there?

Man: If I could see you naked, I’d die happy.

Woman: If I saw you naked, I’d probably die laughing

Sounds about right. That’s why the bars pay girls to sit with guys like me.

Take it on the run

I didn’t do the Hare’s trail yesterday. I didn’t like the hassle of getting to the start way up on Rizal Extension, and I don’t like the Hare or his shitty trails. So, I made my own way. Ashley asked where the trail began, and I gave her the option to join me. She agreed and brought her friend Rose along. They arrived in time for some lunch before our hike.

Baby back ribs, Brussels sprouts, and garlic bread.

So, when I cleared the table to serve lunch, I moved my empty box of nebulizer juice to the kitchen counter and put 500 pesos underneath it so my helper could buy more at the drugstore. While enjoying my after Hash beers at Blue Butterfly, my helper sent me a message asking where the 500 pesos went. Yep, apparently, one of my guests decided to help herself to the money. I was both pissed and disappointed. When confronted, they both denied being a thief.

After I got home last night, Ashley messaged me. She didn’t exactly implicate her friend, but she did note that Rose was the last one out of the house when we left for the hike. I also recalled that during lunch, Rose had asked me out of the blue whether I had CCTV. That seemed suspicious then and even more so now. I asked how long Ashley had known Rose, and they met at work a few months ago. Anyway, I suspect Rose is the culprit, but I don’t trust either of them now. Lesson learned for a relatively small amount of money.

My plan for the hike was to do the My Bitch trail and then circle around on the backstreets to the On-Home venue. A couple of kilometers into my hike, I ran into the “sane” Hash group going in the opposite direction. My group joined forces with theirs, and we finished the Hash together. This did require a retreat and retracing of steps in the opposite direction, but no big deal.

You can see how far I made it before joining the group, where the red line ends above. Still a pleasant hike over familiar territory, though.
Leaving my place. “What has they gots in their pocketses?”
Bitches on My Bitch
Fancy meeting you guys here…
Combined forces
Long time no see, Easter Mountain.
A cookie delivery to my mountain friend Olivia’s grandkids

Olivia wasn’t around, but I did get to say hello to her daughter Jennifer (mother of those kids above). Pubic Head (Scott) posted these photos of Jennifer today:

And the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.
Making our way back down
Country livin’
And by golly, we were on the actual Hash trail for the last half kilometer or so.
Blue Butterfly, our On-Home venue
That’s me making myself at home
It’s nice on ice!

Drank my fill of beer, got some takeout food from Sit-n-Bull, then watched a couple more episodes of Lucifer at home. A bit of a roller coaster ride emotionally but live and learn.

A motherless day

My mama’s been gone for over twelve years now, but I can still honor her memory by respecting all the other hard-working moms still with us. I wanted to do something special for the mothers at Hideaway Bar, so I had Joy solicit their suggestions for the Sunday feeding. The unanimous vote was for Jollibee.

I rarely do the Jollibee thing because it’s a bit of a pain in the ass. It’s across the river in Santo Tomas, which is in the opposite direction of Hideaway. And once you get your order, it’s not really feasible to lug all those bags of goodness to the far side of Barretto, so you need to grab a trike. And on Sundays in that direction, traffic is a bitch. But how do you decline the wishes of a mother on her day? I’m not THAT kind of mother fucker.

Apparently, mothers all over town wanted a Jollibee meal. Never seen the place so packed. A long wait to order and a longer wait to get the food.

When the grub was finally ready, I had some good luck when a trike dropped off a passenger just as I walked outside. He also did a good job navigating traffic and got me to Hideaway without incident.

The bounty:

Chicken and spaghetti
Hamburger steak and rice
Chicken and rice
Extra chicken
Brownies for dessert
And then the Belgian chocolate guy came by, so I bought some for the girls too.
Jen dining
A mother’s ecstasy

Anyway, it was a special treat to treat the Hideaway moms to food and beverage on their special day. It’s a hard life for them, but they keep on keepin’ on for their kids. It’s what mothers do.

I did my nightcap at Cheap Charlies. First time I’d been there in a couple of weeks, and the gals at least pretended that they’d missed me.

Especially Nerissa. In case you are wondering, no, I’m not going there–she’ll remain strictly in the bar friend zone. That’s best for both of us.

We were talking about Mother’s Day, and Nerissa asked me if I remembered my mom’s favorite song. I didn’t but told her my nephew and his Filipina wife performed Upward Over The Mountain at her funeral. I was touched that she got up and had it added to the music queue. It always brings tears to my eyes when I hear it now.

What mama sees when she looks down from heaven on where I live. (no, I don’t really believe that, but it is still a cool picture of the Philippines)
Mom came to visit us in Prescott, AZ, back in 1979.
Mother, don't worry. I killed the last snake that lived in the creek bed
Mother, don't worry. I've got some money I saved for the weekend
Mother, remember being so stern with that girl who was with me?
Mother, remember the blink of an eye when I breathed through your body?

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds flying upwards over the mountain

Mother, I made it up from the bruise on the floor of this prison
Mother, I lost it all of the fear of the Lord I was given
Mother, forget me now that the creek drank the cradle you sang to
Mother, forgive me I sold your car for the shoes that I gave you

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons can be birds taken broken up to the mountain

Mother, don't worry. I've got a coat and some friends on the corner
Mother, don't worry. She's got a garden we're planting together
Mother, remember the night that the dog had her pups in the pantry?
Blood on the floor and the fleas on their paws,
And you cried 'til the morning.

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds flying always over the mountain

Vial Lyn

Almost exactly 24 hours after she arrived, my surprise visitor departed. Perhaps she will return again in a year like last time. Well, maybe small doses of Lyn are the best medicine. And I didn’t have cause to title this post “Vile Lyn,” so there’s that. Anyway, bottom line up front: Lyn is cute and sexy, fun to be around, and doesn’t seem to be all that attracted to me. For example, she didn’t even sleep with me (when I awoke this morning, she was on the couch). I can’t claim to be disappointed regardless of how much as I wanted to do the deed because I had the impression from the moment she asked if she could visit that my role was to provide lodging and entertainment, but romance wasn’t part of the equation. That proved to be the case.

Lyn arrived earlier than expected, around 0900. She told me she needed time away from her kids (16 and 10) because their recent behavior has been stressful. When we met last year, she seemed to enjoy hiking, and I thought that would be a nice way to fill some hours, and it is also a good remedy for stress. I was disappointed when she told me she hadn’t brought footwear or clothes suitable for a hike. I figured we could remedy that with a quick visit to the local DiviMart store. We found a top, a pair of pants, and some shoes in her size, and the total bill came to less than a thousand pesos. Heh, I won’t vouch for the quality of the gear. We headed back to my place, she changed into her new clothes, and we headed out for a hike.

I wasn’t going to push anything extreme, although Lyn did express an interest in climbing Easter Mountain. Maybe next time. Instead, I took her on a backroads trek to Subic town so I could visit the ATM there. It was long and hot, and we took a Jeepney back home.

Lyn took a nap when we got home and slept for three hours. I’d put some meatballs in the crockpot before she arrived, and they were ready to go by the time she woke up. Some mixed veggies and garlic bread rounded out the meal. When we finished eating, it was beer o’clock on a Saturday evening, so we headed into town.

Since Lyn lives in Angeles City, I thought visiting the floating bar would be something different for her. We made the journey to Baloy Beach on foot, and she took my hand in hers as we walked. I was thinking how sweet that was when she said, “It is the only way I can keep up with you when we walk.”

It turns out Lyn isn’t much of a drinker. She wanted a coffee, but that wasn’t on the menu. She ordered some kind of cocktail and sipped it for the duration of our visit. Heh, she’s easy on the pocketbook, at least!

When we left the floater, I took Lyn to Johan’s, and she finally got the coffee she wanted. There was a pool tournament taking place, and Lyn is a big fan, so she enjoyed watching some of the play. After Johan’s, I took her for a beach walk, thinking McCoy’s might be our next stop, but it was Saturday night, and the videoke was going full blast. We both said, “No, thanks,” and kept going.

We grabbed a trike, and I had the driver drop us at Whiskey Girl. I grabbed some seats near the pool table and called my favorite waitress, Jen, over to join us. I know Jen likes playing pool too, so I challenged her to play Lyn to earn a lady drink. They played three close games, but Lyn was the victor in all of them. Once the playing was done, I could tell Jen was uncomfortable sitting with us, and before long, she told me that she needed to go serve one of her regulars. Okay then, bye! Jen did message me this afternoon to apologize, saying she didn’t want to cause trouble with my new girlfriend. I explained that Lyn was not my girlfriend but that I understood.

We went home after Whiskey Girl. Lyn didn’t want a smoothie or other dessert, saying she wasn’t hungry. She revealed that she was worried about her kids, and it was pretty obvious she regretted her apparently rash decision to leave town without them. It was my bedtime, but Lyn said she would stay up a while longer and call home. Alright then, good night.

As I mentioned, Lyn was asleep on the couch when I got up this morning. She told me she wasn’t up for a walk but would like to take a swim before she headed back to AC. I suggested we have breakfast at Treasure Island, and she could use the pool there. Lyn surprised me when she told me that she doesn’t like chlorinated pools, preferring the “natural” water of the bay. I almost laughed out loud at that, having seen what flows into the bay from filthy rivers. But who am I to rain on her parade? So, I told her after the dog walk, we could have breakfast somewhere on the beach, and she could swim to her heart’s content.

Lyn modeled her “swimwear.”

As promised, I took Lyn to Mango’s so we could eat and she could swim.

Lyn caught a Jeepney in front of Mangos and made it home safely. Before she departed, I asked if she needed anything, and she said she was fine. Then I tried to give her 1000 pesos as a Mother’s Day present, and she wouldn’t take it. I’m not going to lie, that hurt my feelings, and I considered it borderline rude. I thought things over while walking after she left and decided to let it go as just another indicator that whatever her feelings may be, she does not want anything I might have to offer.

Noted.

Days that end in “y”

For quite some time now, I’ve confined my drinking to only on days that end in a “y.” I’m considering cutting back further and only drinking on two occasions–when I’m alone or when I’m with someone. We’ll see how that works out for me.

Speaking of being with someone, it’s been an unusual week in that regard. I had Joy’s companionship on Thursday, and last night Mary joined me. And as I write this, Lyn is on her way from Angeles for a weekend visit. Remember her? It’s been a little over a year now since our first and last meeting. We’ve occasionally exchanged messages since her departure, but this visit came out of the blue. I think she just needs a break from the stress of her current life, and hey, I don’t mind being a shelter in her storm. I rather liked her.

Anyway, it occurs to me that maybe I’ve stumbled upon an answer to my companionship dilemma. Why not have an arrangement where I spend Thursdays with Joy, Fridays with Mary, Mondays with Angie, and then fill in the gaps with random events like Lyn’s visit? That even leaves some time when I can be alone to rest, recuperate, and recharge. Perhaps there is safety in numbers, after all.

Anyway, it is just a thought for now. Lyn will be arriving in a few minutes, so I want to get this post up as I expect I’ll be otherwise occupied for the remainder of the day.

Wish me luck!

Welcome back!

Taking the fifth…

…anniversary in stride. It was the first day of the rest of my life, and here is how I lived it:

I already mentioned the visit to the blood diagnostic center during the morning hours. The vampires there sucked several vials of blood from my arm almost painlessly, and I rewarded them with a cup of my prized urine. I should have the results later today, assuming I can figure out how to access the online posting. After the samples were collected, it was time to break my twelve-hour fast.

There is a restaurant across the street from the clinic I’d never tried before named Volante. I had noticed their signage mentioned waffles, and that triggered a craving for those Southern-style breakfasts at Waffle House I used to enjoy back in the day. Well, memories are almost always better than reality, I suppose. The Volante waffles were just okay but also the best I’ve had in five years or more.

My friend, Joy from Hideaway, has been having some stomach issues, so I made her an appointment to see Dr. Jo. I met her there at noon, and during Joy’s examination, I had a nice chat with Jo’s husband, Dr. Chris. When the appointment was completed, I paid Dr. Jo and gave Joy cash for her prescriptions. I also invited Joy to join me later at the floating bar, and she accepted.

It was Joy’s first time on the floater, and she seemed to enjoy the unique ambiance, although it took her a bit to get used to the motion.
The view from my barstool
The view of the barstool next to mine

When dinner time rolled around, we headed for shore and grabbed a seat at Da’Kudos.

The view from our dinner table
And the view of my dinner, a roast chicken salad. Joy had the grilled pork chops.

After our meal, we took a beach walk to McCoy’s, but the videoke was at full volume, so we didn’t stay. I hopped in a trike with Joy and had it drop me at Queen Vic while Joy continued on to home.

I had some more beers and lady drinks with Angie before making it an early night and going home. I made time for another episode of Lucifer, then hit the hay to bring my fifth year in the Philippines to an end.

Nothing really insightful to say about reaching this milestone. It is not the life I imagined I would be living five years ago, but it is still my best life. I certainly have no regrets about making the move, and more and more, I am learning to appreciate the things I have rather than lament the things I don’t. Embrace your choices and be who and what you are. I see constant reminders that blessings come in many forms, and they often wear disguises.

Anyway, it was nice to be on Baloy, remembering my first months in the PI when I lived there. And it is nice to gaze into the future and imagine the life I might be living five years from now. I’m clueless, of course, but that’s part of the adventure. Okay, I just went back and looked at my post from May 12, 2018, to remind myself how I spent that first full day of my new life.

I had an omelet for breakfast that day, too. And a walk on Baloy.
And here’s a photo from last night at Queen Victoria. I haven’t aged a day, have I? What made me laugh, though, was seeing that I’m wearing the same damn shirt from five years ago. What are the odds of that happening?

In unrelated news, I came across this photo of what a checkmate looks like in real life:

And in all seriousness, the traffic on the National Highway here in Barretto snarls because of insanity very similar to what is depicted here. After five years of observation, I can attest that Filipinos are the least skilled and dumbest drivers I have encountered anywhere in the world. I don’t mean that to be disparaging; I’m just stating a simple fact: when it comes to driving, they don’t know, and they don’t care.