Speaking of which, I was on my way to It Doesn’t Matter yesterday and passed a woman I know walking with her kids. She wished me a happy birthday. I told her it was not my birthday, and she asked, then why are you wearing a red shirt? I responded because it was clean and hanging in my closet and went well with the color of my shorts. She told me people usually wear red when celebrating their birthdays. Then when I arrived at IDM, I got the same treatment from the waitresses–what’s the occasion? It was all good-natured, of course, but damn, I like my red shirts (I have a couple), and I intend to wear them whenever I please. And from now on, if someone asks me if it is my birthday, I’ll respond with, “yes, it is; where is my present?”

The fact is, I was attending a birthday celebration for Heidi at Snackbar later in the evening, so I thought it was perfectly appropriate to wear red.

I had had a few gin and sodas before I arrived at Snackbar and a few more after I arrived. So, I was even more generous than usual with the lady drinks. Plenty for the birthday girl, of course, and also my new favorite Jenn (Lydell has pretty much ghosted me) and a couple of others.

I had a drunken good time and spent around 3000 pesos ($60) to pay for all that liquid fun. Fortunately, there is a trike stand right next door, so getting home was a breeze. I even made it by my bedtime. Some of the other guests at the party mocked me for being such an early bird, but hey, it works for me. I don’t want to be one of those fools who doesn’t know when to say when and winds up doing something stupid. Or worse.

Earlier in the day, I had done my standard Saturday street walk in Barretto.

Since this is a weekly jaunt, there was nothing much new to catch my eye, so I only took a couple of photos.

At Sit-n-Bull, I ordered a pulled pork sandwich and brought it home with me (yes, I took a trike). In deference to my diet, I took the meat off the bun and gave the bread to my helper. I poured my coleslaw side on top of the pork and chowed down. So, it wasn’t technically a sandwich, but it was masarap (that’s Tagalog for delicious; I just wanted to impress you all with my dozen-word vocabulary).

And about that diet–today was my weekly weigh-in, and here are the results:

This week I’m at 221.4 pounds, a reduction of 3.9 pounds since January 1 and minus 3.3 from last week. Slow progress, but at least I’m moving in the right direction. 195 is still a LONG way to go, though. I miss the ice cream more than the beer, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

I have the Sunday feeding at Hideaway on tap for later, and I also promised one of the Alaska girls I’d drop in to say hi tonight. Yeah, it’s a tough life, but somebody has to do it.

Back with more tomorrow.