(I wrote An SOB, then wondered if it should be A SOB. Grammarly says “An,” so I’ll stick with that. Maybe it matters if you are talking about an SOB dance contest or a son of a bitch.)
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So, I attended another SOB dance competition last night. This week’s event was at Alaska Club, one of the better venues for seating and viewing the contest. Owner Jerry was back from the USA, and it was good to see him looking happy and healthy. Nothing really special about the show; they all seem same-same after a while. I was out of sync with the other judges this week, but that’s okay. I call them like I see them and look for dancing skills beyond shaking that booty. Apparently, that’s just me. Alaska won (I had them ranked second).
That’s how the day ended for me. It began with the morning dog walk.
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I wasn’t feeling up for the group hike, but I joined Swan for an easy candy walk in some nearby neighborhoods we rarely visit.
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We finished our walk at the Jewel Cafe. I visit every week to order food for the Hideaway feeding, but rarely dine-in there.
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I had a rough night again, sleep and breathing-wise. The most concerning aspect was that my usual home remedies didn’t seem to help much. This morning, I was almost as breathless as I feel after a hill climb. I’m getting into “this is scary” territory and have an appointment scheduled with a pulmonary doctor on Tuesday. Hopefully, there’s a fix for whatever is causing this. I’m feeling better now, at least, and my blood oxygen level is back at a healthy (for me) 95%.
I have been confined to the house all day so far, but I will be going out later this afternoon to do the Hideaway feeding. Yeah, it’s only Saturday, but I have other plans for Sunday. After the feeding, I’ll meet up with Swan at It Doesn’t Matter to help celebrate owner Cliff’s 60th birthday.
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Facebook reminded me of an event from eight years ago in Seoul. My Filipina friend, Michelle, was moving back to the Philippines. She asked me if I had any old electronics, like a laptop computer, that I didn’t need. Well, I didn’t, but as a surprise going-away gift, I went to the PX on base and bought her a new iPad. I invited her to dinner at my place, where I intended to present the gift, but she didn’t show. It sucks to cook for two and be stood up.
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Six years ago, Buddy finally learned to walk on a leash.
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I’m a member of a Facebook group called “Memories of Westminster, CA”. This shot of Westminster Avenue near where I lived brought the memories of those years flooding back.
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In today’s YouTube video, Reekay discusses the pitfalls of hiring a live-in helper. I guess I got lucky. My domestic helper is a certified caregiver who takes care of getting my prescriptions filled, making my doctor appointments, and attending to the household chores. Her job is to make my life as easy as possible. Been with me for six years now and never had an issue. I pay her an above-market wage in addition to room and board. And I don’t fuck with the help. I’m an old HR guy, and that’s Rule #1.
I hope these make you smile:
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That’s all I’ve got for today. Hopefully, things will be better tomorrow.
Good luck with the appointment on Tuesday. This is becoming very concerning.
re: “A SOB” or “An SOB”?
From what I’ve seen, how you write it depends on how you say it: “a sob” or “an ess-oh-bee.” There’s no single, right answer to this question, so you just need to pick a style and stick with it.
Michelle sounds like another flaky one. Or more charitably, she was worried you were propositioning her. Did you have a reputation back in Seoul? Be honest.
Sinigang looks interesting. I might want to try that someday.
Awful jokes aside, I wonder whether the one-armed man has ever considered getting a functional prosthesis. Those things are getting better and better every year.
Okay, they are both right then, depending on the context. I attended an SOB, and the guy at the next table was a real SOB. That makes sense.
Well, I’d known Michelle for years from dart league. Her Filipino boyfriend got deported back to the Philippines. We attended a wedding together once but as friends. It was never a physical relationship with her. So, it really was just supposed to be a goodbye dinner before she left and a surprise going away present. I can’t imagine I had a reputation—I was lonely most of the time after Jee Yeun left me.
I’ve never talked to the one-hand man about a prosthesis, but I doubt he could afford one. He lives in a shack with his wife and kids right outside the gate in Alta Vista. I saw him working as a laborer at one of the construction sites, but apparently, that didn’t last. I’m not sure how he makes a living now.