That being the case, it can mean whatever anyone wants it to mean. Apparently. Let’s continue yesterday’s “love story” to its illogical conclusion, shall we?

So, I was taken aback by Jessel’s words of love, unexpected as they were. How could I have so completely misread her feelings? I stopped playing darts so I wouldn’t have to deal with her rejection. She told me she quit working at Alley Cats because I stopped coming. And now all these months later we were finally back on the same page after having acknowledged our love for one another. The only question that remained was where do we go from here?

Clearly, we had a lot to talk about if we were to set a course for a future together. I wasn’t entirely sure I knew what I wanted going forward and I had absolutely no clue about the kind of relationship Jessel desired. I was still scared about making a mistake and getting hurt again, so I was hoping for some reassurance and understanding if I wanted to take things slowly. I knew I would be making changes in my lifestyle but I needed to understand Jessel’s expectations, wants, and needs.

The obvious next step was to get together and talk about these issues. That shouldn’t be difficult for two people in love. Except it turns out that it was. My only avenue of communication with Jessel was via Messenger, but she continued to be non-responsive to many of my messages. Hours and sometimes days would go by before I received a reply on the ones she did bother to answer. Jessel explained that she is not allowed to use her phone at work, and I understand that. That doesn’t explain why I rarely heard from her during her off-hours though. It took me until Wednesday, five days after I had received her profession of love, to receive her agreement for a lunch date. And it didn’t happen. When she finally got back to me, she wanted to meet at 6:30. No, that didn’t work for me. I’d already been drinking and this meeting was too important to me to do unsober. And yeah, to have a lunch date unilaterally changed to dinner was irritating too. It took until late the next day to reschedule our lunch meeting for Friday at 1:00 at Mango’s.

I was excited about the meet-up and arrived twenty minutes early. Jessel got there twenty minutes late. Yeah, a practitioner of “Filipina time”. Good to know. It was nice to see her again–it had been a week already. We ordered our roast chicken meal, and I told her the story of love I shared here yesterday. She told me she was excited the first time she saw me. Well, it never showed. I asked some questions about her life and she responded with short answers. Later on, I thought she was sending a message on her phone, and I happened to glance down–she was playing one of those building block-type games. Ouch! I guess I’m not as interesting as I thought I am. She didn’t seem to have much else to say anyway and the vibe I was getting was that she wasn’t interested in talking about the future. Well, she did say she didn’t want me to tell anyone about “us”. I’m pretty sure that nobody she knows reads this blog, so I guess I haven’t. I couldn’t get an understandable answer as to why we couldn’t tell the world of our newfound love, but my imagination quickly came up with several possibilities. Very strange indeed.

She wasn’t interested in coming home with me or doing anything else together after lunch. She wanted to nap. And here’s the kick in the balls–when we got to the door of Mango’s she said “you go first.” She didn’t want anyone to see us leaving the restaurant together!

I didn’t hear from her at all on Saturday. This being in love thing isn’t as grand as I thought it would be. And that’s really the bottom line about it I guess. Jessel is not the woman of my fantasies. I think perhaps I over-estimated her English mastery–perhaps she seems uncommunicative because she can’t speak or write my language well. I still have no idea why she doesn’t want people to know about me, she did assure me she has no other boyfriends–here, back in the province, or online. So, I don’t know.

But what I do know is there appears to be no foundation on which to build a relationship. The things I dreamed about and imagined aren’t going to happen. Jessel doesn’t seem eager to take any initiative to move things forward, either emotionally or physically. Maybe she is just shy.

Anyway, she doesn’t appear to be the woman I fell for in my imaginary relationship. Reality is an unforgiving bitch, but as at least one commenter has noted repeatedly, I ought to know better by now. Yeah, I should. All I can say in my defense is that I don’t develop those kinds of feelings very often anymore and normally wouldn’t have the courage to act on them. In this case, I was aware that my current life is pretty damn fine even without a loving relationship. And it could be a hell of a lot worse with one.

I took those tentative steps forward, and now I’m stepping back. Perhaps love is just an illusion after all. At least I didn’t get bit in the ass.

Love hurts, love scars, love wounds
And marks, any heart
Not tough or strong enough
To take a lot of pain, take a lot of pain
Love is like a cloud
Holds a lot of rain
Love hurts…… ooh, ooh love hurts

Some fools think of happiness
Blissfulness, togetherness
Some fools fool themselves I guess
They’re not foolin’ me

I know it isn’t true, I know it isn’t true
Love is just a lie
Made to make you blue
Love hurts…… ooh, ooh love hurts

Where do I begin

To tell the story

Of how great a love can be

The sweet love story

That is older than the sea

That sings the truth about the love she brings to me

Where do I start

I guess the best place to start would be the beginning.

I first met Jessel when she began work as a new waitress at Alley Cats when the bar reopened after the lockdown ended last year. I was surprised they had hired someone new when some of the former waitresses were still not working. I found that a little off-putting and assumed she had some connection to the bar owner. I also didn’t find her attractive, so I pretty much just ignored her.

Before long, like most of the other waitresses, Jessel began playing in the dart tournaments. She was pretty good for a beginner, but what really impressed me was the effort she put into improving her game. I’d see her practicing throwing before the tournament started, and then watching other games in progress to learn from more experienced players. That dedication is pretty rare, especially from the bargirls.

One night I bought her a drink and we sat and chatted. I learned some of her story–a province girl from Samar, a single mother, and working to support her child back home. That’s actually a pretty common tale amongst the bargirls. Maybe it was because she was new, but I noticed her demeanor was different than a typical bargirl. Jessel was quiet and reserved and did not aggressively pursue customers for drinks. Lots of gals sit near and snuggle or give you a back rub in order to entice you to buy them a drink (most of a bar waitress’s pay is earned through drink commissions, not salary). That just wasn’t Jessel’s style. I liked that about her too.

So, that’s pretty much how it went for a while…I’d watch her play darts, occasionally buy her a drink, and chat and joke around some. Then one night I looked at her from across the bar and I was shocked–when did she get so damned beautiful? As I say, I’d never found her particularly attractive–a little heavier than I like with a baby belly and a bigger butt than I usually go for. So what happened? It occurred to me that as I got to know her I began to see the beauty she carried inside and that changed my entire perception of how she looked on the outside. I actually started thinking she was sexy as hell, even appreciating those ass-ets. *ahem*

And then things started getting weird. Not so much with her, but in my head. I would sometimes dream of her. And in my waking hours, I’d fantasize about her. Not the usual sex fantasies you’d expect from an old pervert like me. Instead, I’d picture us as a couple. Waking up to a kiss, sharing coffee and some laughs, taking a walk together, and then going out and playing darts. Yeah, a significant other to share my life with would be nice, I found myself thinking. Could it be I was falling in love?

But being in love is a pretty scary thought. I’ve been burned so many times that I’m afraid of the fire that comes with love’s passion. So, I tried to ignore my feelings at first, but the more I was around here, the harder it became to do so. I started dropping some hints about my feelings, but she never seemed to take me seriously.

We were Facebook friends and I would send her messages occasionally. She’d usually ignore them. And when she deleted comments I’d leave on her posts, I got frustrated and unfriended her. It dawned on me that whatever I was feeling for her wasn’t mutual.

That’s really not unusual I suppose. That’s why true love is so rare. Two people need to be in the same place emotionally at the same time. That just wasn’t happening with Jessel. I wouldn’t say she started giving me a cold shoulder, but I did sense her pulling back. I couldn’t and didn’t fault her–you can’t help what you feel or don’t feel. So, I had to decide what I was going to do with my unrequited love or whatever in the hell it was that I was feeling. The best (only?) option I could think of was to take a break from Alley Cats.

I stopped playing darts and visiting the bar for two months. That’s how long it took me to “get over” Jessel. When I finally came back I discovered that Jessel had quit the bar and taken a job at the Central Park Reef hotel. Good for her, I said. And best for me too, I thought to myself. And that is where things stood until a week ago Friday.

I came in that night for my usual dose of darts at the tourney. I was very surprised to see Jessel sitting at the bar. I didn’t say anything, just proceeded to my usual table and took my seat. I ignored her for the first hour I was there, being relieved that the darts gods didn’t see fit to pair us up for the tournament. As things played out, I didn’t even play against her. Maybe it was the beers or maybe it was just me being the nice guy that I am, I eventually went over to where Jessel was sitting and said hello. She gave me a big hug. And it felt so nice. A little small talk and I returned to my seat. A bit later I had a beer sent over for her.

She sent me a message on Messenger: Miss U.

I responded: You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.

To which she replied: I love you.

And that’s the story of how I fell in love with Jessel. There is a bit more to tell, including a rundown of our first date yesterday afternoon. I’ll post about that tomorrow.

Today’s post is the last in the “a week in the life” series. I reckon that is reason enough to call it a sad day. Besides, the pun in the post title was just too hard to resist. So let me see if I can find some other reasons to pretend to be sad.

A third-place finish in darts last night. I played like I hadn’t thrown or practiced in a week. I was sad about the way I threw and sad for being a disappointment to my partner. I can and will do better.

I’m pretty sure I mentioned firing Joy from the FWB program due to her incessant begging for more and more and trying to involve me in all her financial dramas and emergencies. The last straw was when she repeatedly begged for funds to pay her sister’s maternity fees. Nowadays Joy is begging me for forgiveness and wants us to be friends. I’ll get two or three of these messages throughout the day, but I don’t respond. I guess I may have to block her but I figure she’ll give up eventually. It’s kinda sad though.

Judy, my other FWB participant, pestered me about providing a massage so she could buy food for her kids. It wasn’t quite begging level, but maybe it’s a warning sign. I’m sad that so many folks are struggling these days but it is not my responsibility to solve their problems. I do what I can and that has to be enough.

I’ve come to terms I think with my feelings for Jessel. I’ll devote a separate post to discuss that roller coaster ride. I’m sad that my fantasies were not destined to be a reality, but then again, I would have been a lot sadder if I had experienced another crash and burn love disaster.

Obviously, if what I have written above is all I have to be sad about, I am doing pretty damn good. My challenge will be to not mess up a good thing by doing something stupid. Again.

I’d definitely be sad to see that happen.

Well, I didn’t get lucky today, but that’s not bad luck. In fact, it’s probably a blessing.

Only four hikers were brave enough to take to the streets and hills on this cursed day. The worst that happened to us was getting our feet wet, so nothing to complain about there. I’ve got some photos to share from our adventure in just a bit.

I had lunch with Jessel today. In fact, I just got back home from Mango’s where we enjoyed a roast chicken and gravy, with rice and coleslaw. I’m going to need a bit more time to process that event, but first impressions tell me I won’t be making any significant changes to my lifestyle anytime soon. I could say it was more than a little disappointing, but that’s probably not fair. To begin, I went in with a good deal of ambivalence as to whether I even wanted to try the “love” thing again. Jessel did nothing to sway my thinking in favor of a relationship. Not blaming her, finding fault, or casting aspersions. She is who she is and the sad fact may well be that that isn’t enough for me. More on this topic soon. I want to think about what happened, and didn’t happen, and what that all means before I decide what happens next.

To the hike then:

I’m going to continue pushing my luck by participating in tonight’s dart tourney at Alley Cats. If I lose, I’ll blame it on the unlucky 13th. Although I guess everyone will be playing under the same handicap.

And just so you know, I am not at all superstitious. In fact, I posted exactly 13 photos here as my way of saying “Fuck You, Friday!” Or as I learned to say in Tagalog, “putang ina mo”.

Well, I truthfully only drink on days that end in “y”, so you might say every day is thirst day. I have my favorite hangouts, but I’ll also occasionally mix things up, just to keep it interesting. I do find that I have gravitated to bars with outdoor seating lately. I just find watching the world pass by more interesting than most things happening inside a drinking establishment.

Here’s a typical evening out for me:

The bar was previously known as Toucan, but a new owner wanted to change things up I guess. I actually met the new owner on Monday–he was a virgin Hasher. We got to talking some and I told him that when the city closed down outdoor seating as a COVID prevention measure (how stupid is that?) I started going elsewhere. He told me those rules were no longer in force and he was in the process of installing tables and chairs. I told him I’d pay a visit next time I was out that way.

On the way home from the vape shop I saw that the patio was indeed back in operation, so I went in, plopped myself down, and ordered up a beer from one of the cute waitresses.

Had another brief chat with the owner, David. Turns out Blue Butterfly will be our On-Home destination at next week’s Hash for the first time. Sounds good to me.

Finished up my beer and moved on down the highway a couple of blocks to visit another venue. Don’t ask me where, because:

I had a bit of a mission here though. Delivering some vape juice to my favorite waitress, Roan. Although truthfully, I’d have dropped in regardless as I enjoy the ambiance and it’s a regular stop in my rotation.

I had a nice chat with Paul, an English bloke who used to live in Alta Vista. He gave me some tips on things I can do to facilitate the passport renewal process. His had to be done in the UK, but I can still do mine via the US embassy. The issue is getting the entry stamps from the old passport transferred to the new one, without creating an overstay situation. I can normally only do 60-day extensions, but Paul suggests trying to get immigration to grant two 60 day extensions simultaneously. They’d charge me double of course, but it would give me more time to complete the renewal process. I’m going to give it a try anyway.

I also rewarded Roan’s good service with a couple of lady drinks. Saw her eating a bag of chips and told her to order some real food.

And I, of course, love Filipinas.

I guess it’s a little pervy taking a picture like that without consent. But still, I did buy the pancit. So…

It was a little after 7:00 and I still had one stop to make so I said my goodbyes and headed on out. Where next? Well, it was Wingsday so that meant:

Now, I realize I’m doing “a week in the life” series, and the events outlined above occurred on Wednesday as opposed to Thursday. Unfortunately, I am not able to do a bar crawl post after having done a bar crawl. Rest assured it will be more of the same tonight. Promise!

More on that another time. Stay tuned!

Did the usual group hike today. We took a Jeepney ride out to Subic Town, then walked the backstreets and neighborhoods before making our way back to Waltermart and the Jeepney ride home. I’ve got some pictures of the trek, but first I want to mention an unexpected trip down memory lane when we ran into a former Hasher named Julica.

I first met Julica shortly after moving to the PI when she regularly attended the Hash. I developed a crush on her and thought we might hook up when we attended an Angeles City Hash event. Julica and her friend Arcel rode down to AC with me and my driver. We weren’t staying at the same hotels, but I thought we had agreed to meet at the Hash signup later. She was a no-show though. The next day at the Hash, she stayed close by my side, fetched my beers, and I thought she was trying to redeem herself. In fact, I was under the impression we were going to go out and hit the bars together that night. Nope. She got out of the van with another group, shrugged, and said “sorry,” then left me sitting there dumbfounded. I don’t know what the deal was, perhaps she had a better offer from someone else. Of course, at that moment I lost all interest in her as a potential girlfriend.

The last time I saw Julica was back in 2019 when she was working on the Kokomo’s floating bar. I wrote about that evening out here.

I last heard from her a few months ago when she used a friend’s Facebook account to contact me and beg for money because she had a sick baby. I was sorry to hear that but had no interest in involving myself in her dramas. There are consequences in making bad life choices.

Which brings us to today. We were walking down the road and a voice calls out “Hi, Scott.” Well, that’s not unusual, Scott’s been around so long he knows a lot of people, even in the backwoods of Subic town. Then the same female voice says “hello, John”. Okay, who is that little lady standing in front of the sari-sari store? Ah, Julica! Well, I was polite but not overly friendly. She lives next door to the sari-sari and we were walking that way, so I paused to say hello to my friend Joy (that’s the Facebook account Julica used to beg for money). She introduced me to her mother who was holding her daughter. I’m glad the baby recovered from whatever it was that ailed her back then.

These past couple of years must have been harsh ones for Julica, she was looking almost as rough as her house. And damn, that house looked bad. Julica said that with all this rain, everything inside was wet. Not surprised that the ramshackle roof isn’t keeping the rain out. It actually made me sorry for her and the tough life she is living. It is easy to forget that the difficult circumstances many folks face have been exacerbated by the idiotic COVID policies. To her credit, Julica didn’t ask me for money today, nor did I offer her any. I did give them a bag of cookies which she seemed to appreciate. I walked away feeling sad.

To the photos then:

And that’s been my Wednesday so far.

UPDATE: And just like clockwork, I got the begging message from Julica (using Joy’s account again). Looks like I’m going to need to block her.

I’m struggling with a potentially life-changing decision right now. Which sounds a bit overly dramatic, but when it comes to love, isn’t it all drama? I’m not ready to tell the story just yet because there is still too much that I don’t understand. I really need to sit down with this woman and have a long talk to share my feelings and attempt to discern just how serious she truly is. Her profession of love last Friday was completely unexpected and I’ve been out of sorts ever since. She works, so her availability is obviously more limited than mine, but she is also non-responsive to my requests for a get-together. Well, she did tell me this morning that she was off today. I asked her what her plans were and she told me she was going to play darts at Alley Cats. I asked her to join me for lunch and she said “where?” I suggested my three favorites (Mango’s, Sit-n-Bull, and The Pub) and then didn’t hear back from her until 1:30 when she responded with “Mango’s”. What time? “After darts.” Hmm, that’s a really late lunch. I guess dinner might work, but I don’t like being jerked around either.

And that’s the rub, I suppose. Yeah, I’ve dreamed about being in a loving relationship, and this gal trips my triggers emotionally. I’ve also feared the vulnerability that comes with giving your heart away. I’ve had more than my share of soul-crushing failures when it comes to love. Do I really want to go there again? My life, such as it is, works for me. I certainly have no problem getting my physical needs satisfied. My emotions are stuck in a neutral zone where I never seem to get too high or too low. I wouldn’t call that ideal, but it is certainly safe. I can imagine a blissful life full of love and romance, caring and sharing, and the contentment that comes with being in a committed relationship with another human being. Then again, I’ll be 66 years old in a couple of weeks and I’ve never managed to sustain those feelings I dream about. Maybe I’m better off being alone. We’ll see, but I think the woman who says she loves me (and I’ve told her I love her) needs to step it up and convince me that walking with her is that path I need to take.

Enough of that for now. Yesterday’s Hash went well enough, I suppose. Most of the Hashers expressed liking the trail, although quite a few of them didn’t complete all of it. Not that I would criticize a shortcutter, seeing as how I are one. A couple of others lost the trail, which means I could have done a better job marking it in those places. Ah, well. No disasters, no one lost, and no rain to speak of. I’ll call it a win.

I forgot that the hungry people in this world look forward to seeing pictures of the food I eat. I’ve got to learn to be less selfish in that regard.

I saw this after posting about my grocery shopping experience earlier today:

Alright, that’s about it for this post. Time for me to get back to wrestling those demons in my head. I’ll let you know who wins.

Tuesday, afternoon
I’m just beginning to see
Now I’m on my way
It doesn’t matter to me
Chasing the clouds away

Something, calls to me
The trees are drawing me near
I’ve got to find out why
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh

I’m looking at myself, reflections of my mind
It’s just the kind of day to leave myself behind
So gently swaying thru the fairy-land of love
If you’ll just come with me and see the beauty of

Tuesday afternoon

This week my two co-Hares and I laid the trail for the one thousand four hundred and fifty-seventh running of the Subic Bay Hash House Harriers. Our original plan for a wet weather trail included passing through the checkpoint into Subic. With the new COVID restrictions, we decided not to risk it. We still had to wind up in Subic since that is where our On-Home venue is located. So, we went a roundabout backway, including a visit to the My Bitch trail. It was good to be off the roads some of the time for a change. The trail came in a little over 7K from the start at VFW to the finish at Smokes and Bottles. Here are how things looked along the way:

Not a bad way to spend a Monday, eh?

Relive it here:

Well, I had so much fun doing that Alta Vista series, I figured I’d do one for each day of the week. And if any of y’all have any ideas for other things you’d like to see or are curious about, let me know and I’ll see what I can come up with.

Sunday is my solo hiking day, so I’ve kind of defaulted into a “standard” walk. This one takes me up the National highway to Calapacuan, then circles back to my house. Right around 8K and mostly flat. A nice rainy season kind of trail. And yes, it is still raining every day, although today was lighter and less frequent.

You can Relive the hike here if you please:

That hike, a nap, and a long-ass post here earlier have pretty much been my day so far. There’s beer to come though.

I’m getting pretty good at this living one day at a time thing. Makes it easier to put days like yesterday behind me, too. That’s a good thing. Having said that, in the big scheme of things there was nothing tragic or painful about yesterday’s events. Well, a pain in the ass maybe. I’ll recount the day’s events now to remind myself that life is indeed good when the worst that happens is having your patience tried.

So, the day started out with confirmation that I could indeed see Dr. DeCastro at 10:00 a.m. in the Baypointe Hospital Eye Clinic. I actually got called into the office at around 10:15 which is pretty good by Filipino standards. They did all the typical tests (I hate that blowing air into your eye one), then I was invited to wait outside until the doctor was ready to see me. That was only about ten minutes, so I’m okay with it.

Did the meet and greet with Dr. DeCastro, then he gazed deeply into my eyes. He had a machine to help him with that. Then he donned a headset and looked some more. He asked if I was driving, I told him no, and so he put something into my eyes to dilate them, then gazed some more. He then confirmed the diagnosis of my optometrist, stating I had a significant cataract growing in my right eye and a lesser one starting in the left. He recommended a procedure called Phacoemulsification and Intraocular Lens Implantation.

According to all I’ve read, the procedure is safe and effective and restores vision once the cataract is removed and a lens inserted. Well, seeing (heh) as how I’m practically blind in my right eye now (most of the time I have to close it to read), the surgery is pretty much a no-brainer. Dr. DeCastro asked if I had insurance and I told him I do in the states, so I would have to pay out of pocket, then get reimbursed. He told me the surgery is around 50,000 pesos and depending on the lens I choose, another 25,000 up to 100,000. So, this is going to be a couple of thousand dollars when all is said and done.

And then the bullshit part of my day started. I asked Dr. DeCastro when we could do the surgery and he responded I needed to get cleared by an internal medicine physician before he could perform the procedure. Say what? Why? He told me it is to ensure that there were no problems with my health that would be exacerbated during his surgery. The surgery he had just described as taking about 15 minutes to perform with me under local anesthesia. It sounded like a simple case of bill padding to me, but what choice do I have?

So, I paid my 2100 peso fee for the doctor’s visit and headed down the hall to see an internist. I was told someone could see me right away, then was directed to another room for a blood pressure check and other vital stats. After that, I sat down in the waiting area and waited. And waited. I was getting frustrated and told my helper to go see about scheduling an appointment. Someone came back and said there was only one other patient ahead of me, so I sucked it up and waited some more. Finally, my turn came and I plopped down in front of the doctor (with a plastic shield between us of course). She looked at my paperwork and told me, “I’m sorry, but you need to see the cardiac doctor for this clearance.” WTF? She then added that the cardiologist was only available on Tuesdays and Fridays from 10:30 until noon. She said he was always busy and suggested I come at 7:30 to register so I could be one of the first to get in once he arrived. I think my tongue has almost healed from the biting it took to prevent me from saying something I’d surely come to regret. I thanked her and left.

My driver and another helper had been waiting in the car for the two hours the above episode had required me to endure. I was hungry and said let’s go eat at Texas Joe’s, my favorite barbeque joint on the old Navy base. Once we arrived, sat down at our outdoor table, and got our menus, we were told no smoking or vaping was allowed, which was why we chose to eat outside. My help was surprised at how expensive everything was and it did seem the prices had gone up considerably since my last visit. They suggested we try the Filipino place next door. Fine by me.

The menu was in Tagalog but I recognized the fried chicken and ordered that. The Filipinos with me got food to their liking and the bill for the four of us was around $30, probably half of what it would have cost me at Texas Joe’s. Did I enjoy my lunch? No, not really.

The next stop was supposed to be a store called HMR, which is sort of a department store with appliances and the like. My friend who is opening the canteen wanted to pick up some pans and cooking gear. Alas, the HMR was closed for remodeling. I went to the hardware store next door and was able to purchase a new grill. So, not a total waste of time at least.

My domestic helper wanted to go to the mall to “pick up her glasses”. She had teasingly shown me a sale coupon for frames and lenses at just 1888 pesos, asking that I buy her glasses. HaHa. Well, the mall was not that far out of our way, so off we went. Except it wasn’t a pick-up-the-glasses situation, it was pick frames then get an examination. Okay, I was starting to get pissed. I hadn’t had my daily nap for one thing. Plus, I had to pee. I was told there was a restroom on the third floor of the mall, so up I went. Found it, but a sign said: “closed, go to the fourth floor.” I used the escalator in the department store to the fourth floor, but the exit from the department store was closed off. Back down to the third floor, then up the mall escalator to the fourth floor, where I was able to relieve myself at last.

Back down to the eyeglass floor and my helper was in despair because she didn’t have the money to pay for her newly ordered eyeglasses. I guess she wasn’t teasing about me paying. Well, it’s coming out of her salary, that’s for sure. My mood had grown decidedly worse by now and I was anxious to get back home.

Easier said than done. It’s usually only twenty minutes or so home from Olongapo (especially the way my madman driver drives) but even he was powerless to overcome the massive traffic jam caused by a checkpoint for vehicles entering Zambales province. Manila is under lockdown again because of the COVID Delta variant. And no one from Manila is supposed to be traveling. And so Zambales is checking everyone’s ID to make sure the virus doesn’t spread. Yeah, that’s going to work. And it gets worse, now they are requiring people from Olongapo to show a negative COVID test before WE can enter. The reason for that latest insanity? Two cases of Delta in Olongapo. Now, that’s a big deal because I cross that border regularly and I ain’t ever been tested for COVID. Nor do I plan to anytime soon. I crossed on foot this morning, and while they were checking vehicles, no one said anything to me. I guess COVID only rides. Anyway, we were stuck in traffic for another thirty minutes or so before I finally got home.

I figured I’d post up the photos from Friday’s hike and share a bit of other news. Except my blog for whatever reason wouldn’t load the pics. No idea why and I was too tired and pissed to try and figure out why. They are loading today though, so I guess I was just cursed yesterday.

That’s the gist of the bad stuff. I did hear from “Jane” for the first time in over a week. She asked if I wanted to join her at a club in Castillejos for drinks and live music. Well, Castillejos is 20K away, so I’m not sure it was even a serious offer. But there was no way I was up for that regardless. We had a brief chat and she explained her lack of contact as related to her being busy at work. I was of course understanding.

I’m not going to let having a bad day keep me from drowning my sorrows though. So, I headed out to Mango’s once drinking time had arrived. As I am unwinding from my shitty day I get a message from Joy. Seems her sister was having a baby last night and lacked the funds to pay the midwife. Joy said she was begging me to help out. A bunch more begs and pleases with the praying hands emojis and I had had enough. Why do you think it is my responsibility to pay for your sister’s childbirth? I asked. Then I told her that she had violated the terms of our arrangement and I said goodbye and good luck. Today she has been begging my forgiveness. I’ve not responded to her messages.

Finally, there was this footnote to my day. On Friday night a woman told me she loved me. Words I had hoped to see (she said it via messenger) months ago. I had actually given up on her, thinking the feelings I had for her were not mutual. It was shocking to learn otherwise. I was pretty excited thinking about the possibilities when I went to bed Friday night. But I didn’t hear from her at all yesterday. The icing on a shit cake kind of day.

It sucks to be sick. Didn’t make it out of the house yesterday and missed a perfectly fine evening for drinking beers. I hate when that happens. Worse yet, I was immersed in intermittent pain throughout the day. Felt like I was being stabbed in the leg. My temperature spiked at 38.9. The only relief I found was in sleep, and I slept fitfully throughout the day.

I still don’t know what the hell this is all about. I took a tumble about a month ago which caused me to slam my leg into the leg of a chair at full force. That hurt like hell at the time and the point of contact (about six inches above the ankle) has been sore ever since. Yesterday morning I awoke to intense pain and swelling in the area of the injury. I can only assume it somehow got infected. When situation gets even worse than this, then it is better to call the truck accident attorneys practicing in Pasadena, whose experience will be useful to claim the proper compensation for the family to survive at ease in the society. As there are many personal injury lawyers serving in Westchester County, you can consult them to claim compensation.

Been taking an antibiotic and pain killers. It feels much better than it did yesterday and the fever is gone. Still hurts a bit when I try and walk, so I had to bail on my Hash Hare responsibilities. I plan to attend the after-Hash circle this afternoon unless I have a relapse.

Damn, I hope I’m not going to be writing another post like this one anytime soon!

I don’t know, I’ve been doing this LTG thing so long now that it’s hard to express an original thought. Over time, the blog has devolved into little more than a personal diary. Three years into retirement now and most days are like every other day. I’m not really bored, this is the life I’ve chosen–but finding something worth writing about can be challenging. I expect what I do write has even less value for a reader. The best I can do is not to worry about the meaninglessness of it all and just share my life stories even if no one cares. Heh, yet another example of my inherent selfishness. Sorry about that!

Just like smoking cigarettes permanently damaged my lungs, it may be that smoking pot has damaged my brain if this study is to be believed.

Marijuana use during adolescence may affect development of the areas of the brain that control emotions, an analysis published Wednesday by JAMA Psychiatry found.

Teens who reported using marijuana during a five-year period showed signs of reduced thickness of the left and right prefrontal cortices in their brains on magnetic resonance imaging, the researchers said.

Reduced thickness of these regions, which control positive and negative emotions, respectively, has in earlier studies been linked with increased risk for depression and suicide, as well as attention problems.

That explains a lot. I smoked a lot of grass between the ages of 15 and 25. So, I think I can fairly assert that all my subsequent fuck ups are due to brain damage. Over fifteen years of posts here at LTG provide ample evidence of my oft repeated instances of stupidity. Now I can take comfort in the knowledge that it wasn’t really my fault.

It’s Hash Monday, but I will not be doing the Guenter trail. It apparently has three climbs and is over 9K long. Hell, even one of the strong and healthy Hashers was bitching about the difficulty and says he plans to shortcut today. Welcome to the club! Me and a couple of others aren’t going to even bother with taking the long Hashmobile ride out to the starting point. We’ll just make our own “sane” trail leaving from my house.

That’s the way I like it. Living life on my terms and doing it my way. Sort of like the crap I post here.