Lots of “S’s” in my day yesterday: shopping, shots, sand, sundown, Snackbar, and some shit. Now you can suffer while I recount how it went down. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it short.
The grocery shopping was a good indicator of where I’m falling into that expat lifestyle creep (spending more because you can until you can’t), mentioned in the YouTube video I posted the other day. I spent $113 at the YBC supermarket, which was primarily for the cookies and candies we hand out every week. Next up, I paid the quarterly visit to the PureGold supermarket to look for some hard-to-find items and spent $75. Then it was on to Royal for my regular weekly groceries, and I dropped another $154 there. So, $342 doesn’t break the bank, but it does exceed my $250 weekly grocery budget. It could have been worse, but the exchange rate is now over 61 pesos to the dollar, a near record.
Then it was off to see Dr. Jo for my highest-dose Ozempic injection yet. That set me back almost 9000 pesos. I struggled with some acid reflux last night, but my appetite was suppressed (no craving for dinner). So, going into month three of this treatment, I’ve lost thirteen pounds thus far.
I’ve given up on resurrecting my darting life, so instead of Alley Hideout, we headed to Baloy Beach.
The Kokomo’s floating bar is gone for the season, but we walked to Kokomo’s anyway to check out their newly renovated Tiki Beach Bar. It is nicer than it was and will be an option to visit when Swan needs her beach fix.
We paid the too-rare visit to Harley’s next.
I thought I’d get hungry, and Harley’s has a good food menu. The hunger never came, so I never ate.
Swan had an appointment to meet up with her girlfriends, and I decided to do my nightcap at Snackbar. Something about our parting triggered some tampo shit from Swan. Luckily, it seems to have resolved itself now. Two beers at Snackbar, then I was home alone.
From the June 2019 LTG archives, I was walking old paths in Anjeong-ri and gaining new insights into the life I had left behind. Too bad I don’t seem capable of figuring shit out until it is too late to do anything about it. But, that’s the story of my life.
It’s been quite some time since I last checked in with Smart Girl Philippines. In today’s YouTube video, she ranks the value of foreigners to the various types of Filipinas they are likely to encounter. From my observations over the years, she is pretty much spot-on.
And you knew these were coming:
It seems there was this couple from Minneapolis, Minnesota, who decided to go to Miami Beach for a few days to thaw out during one particularly cold winter.
The airlines have crazy frequent flyer rules, and the wife ended up on a flight the day after her husband.
The husband made it down to Florida and arrived at his hotel. Upon getting to his room, he decided to open his laptop and send his wife back in Minneapolis an email.
Unfortunately, he didn’t notice he had misspelled his wife’s email address
In South Carolina, a widow had just returned from the funeral of her husband, a Methodist pastor of many years, who had been called to glory just a few days earlier.
She decided to check her email because she was expecting to hear from relatives and friends. Upon reading the first email, she let out a loud scream, fainted and fell to the floor.
The woman’s son rushed into the room and found his mother on the floor. He glanced up at the computer screen and saw the following email message:
To My Loving Wife: I’ve just been checked in. Everything has been prepared for your arrival here tomorrow. Looking forward to seeing you then.
Your Devoted Husband.
P.S. Sure is hot down here.
And there you have the story of the “S” in my TueSday.
I don’t visit Snackbar often these days, but I had to smile when the waitress welcomed me back by playing this song on the music box:
What happened to Kevin Kim?
Did he have another heart attack? Or is he just an anti-cracker racist who hates you for your freedom and ability to bang hoes and trannies at the drop of a hat?
xoxo
Yes, John, I am still in Tucson. I think it’s good you try keeping your alcoholism secret and deny it at every chance you get because believe you me one just cannot confide in people without them using it against you. The last person I trusted to tell that I have a problem got me kicked out of a homeless veterans camp for it. He was lowkey a functioning alcoholic so I thought he’d understand. We were tight as coonballs; we drank together every fortnight, when he thought I was just a beer-drinking normie; he would practically sprint to the local bar as soon as it opened to spend his social security check; he’d spend whatever free cash he could scrounge up to go drinking in a field. I can’t even remember why specifically I told him. Maybe it’s because I liked him as a friend and wanted to share something deeply personal. Even then I didn’t tell him it was a current problem but something I grappled with “in the past” and he must have put two and two together.
He ended up snitching on me to the camp owner, who’s massively anti-alcohol and completely forbade booze in the camp. He was a gossip and kind of did the same to other people who were bounced before me, snooping on residents being ‘naughty’. I knew it was the guy who told him because the camp owner specifically said “vodka problem”, and not “drinking problem”, which was my drink of choice I identified to the informant.
When moving out day came, not along after, I actually sought out the snitch to shake his hand and say “take care”. He couldn’t hold my eye and barely mumbled “you too”. I don’t think he felt bad for what he did, but maybe he was embarrassed I was being nice to him and not cussing him out or something.
Even people you think you can trust and who would understand can use that knowledge against you. This is why I commend Swan for your very frequent tampo episodes. Who knows what bile she might spew in the form of hurtful words if she didn’t? Perhaps it’s best she keeps mum until the evil thoughts within evaporate and you do not need to be exposed to their toxic fumes.
Cheers!
Marc, Kevin is doing fine health-wise and is none of those things you mentioned, and neither am I. Kevin can choose to do whatever he wants, and for now, at least, he has chosen to refrain from commenting here. I miss his wit and wisdom and hope that he changes his mind one day.
Thompson, interesting story. Hw come the beer-drinker wasn’t expelled from the home as well? The preferred drink shouldn’t make a difference. Them rules is rules. Anyway, better not to be involved in a place like that, so he did you a favor.
Yes, I’ve been learning more and more recently about trust and friendship. It’s good to know that counting on others to have your back is a fool’s game.
As for the tampo thing, many of my fellow expats share your view that the “silent treatment” is better than the alternative. I’m the opposite. I’d rather have a shouting match, get the issue out in the open, and then work to resolve it.
Oh, and once again, I deny being an alcoholic.
Nice to hear from you again.