The brownout party at the Rite Spot On The Roof turned out to be a lot of fun. It was also a bit of a marathon for a lightweight like me, with the first guests arriving just before noon and the last departure around 9 p.m. During the course of the event, we downed over fifty(!) beers, and the lady folk enjoyed several bottles of wine. There were lots of compliments on the chili and corn muffins, and we didn’t have many leftovers from the other food offerings. I think at the peak, we had fifteen or so in attendance, which was a better turnout than I expected. Ironically, we had ANOTHER brownout late in the afternoon, although this one only lasted thirty minutes. The neighbor said it was scheduled, but I hadn’t heard about it. Anyway, the attendees all said they had a good time, and that’s what a party is for, so I’m calling it a success!
but would stop by before departing for Manila. So, we started the party early.
I have to conclude that the visit wasn’t about me, and I never got a clear understanding of what was going on with Gem’s situation. She said she has an Israeli significant other, but he is currently visiting Thailand. So, maybe she’s just trying to fill in space until he returns. Anyway, it is nice to be remembered after five years, and I hope things work out well for her.
The shade provided by the roof was inadequate, and throughout the afternoon, we were rearranging tables and chairs to try and capture what shade we could find.
The best damn party I’ve attended all year, if I do say so myself. Good times!
And now, it is Hash Monday, but after a careful assessment, I’ve decided not to participate today. Vienna Sausage (Guenter) is the Hare, and his trails don’t suit my survival instincts. Strike one. The trail begins at Court 4, near the end of Rizal Extension, which makes it very inconvenient for me to reach (it’s all uphill, and some trikes have difficulty getting there). Strike 2. The On-Home is at a Hasher’s house (Always Wet) and is also at the end of Rizal Extension. That makes getting back home, especially after drinking and in the dark, problematic. Strike 3. Yeah, maybe I’m a wuss, but I don’t expect I’d have a good time, so what’s the point?
I’m not sure what I’m going to do in lieu of the Hash. Fact is, I’m concerned about some lung issues I’m experiencing. Even on the morning dog walk today, I was huffing and puffing. I’ll see Dr. Jo tomorrow, but I may go back to the pulmonary specialist for some advice on minimizing my breathing difficulties.
Today’s Quora Q&A (someone’s question, my answer):
Q: Do people regret moving from their original home country and living abroad permanently or do they feel it was a good decision? If so, what makes them feel that way?
A: I’ve been living in the Philippines for over five years now. No regrets whatsoever. Every time I read the news from back home in the USA I am so thankful to be far away from the nightmare my country of birth has become. Of course, the Philippines is far from perfect, but I’ll take the ups and downs that come with living here over the vanilla American lifestyle any day.
Now for the funny business:
Alright, that’s all for now. Thanks for stopping by.
Which version of this song is best?
While I like them both, I’ve got to go with the upbeat sound of the original by The Drifters.
It was too early in the day to enjoy a sunset, so I arranged a fire for my guest’s entertainment. (joke lang)
guest’s = one guest
guests’ = more than one guest
Is “joke lang” some sort of PI slang for “JK”?
Dr. Jo and hubby Chris joined in the fun.
Didn’t realize how utterly tiny Jo was.
Wine, meat on a stick, and cheesecake is how they roll.
A French person would’ve been like, “What have you done to my civilization?”
The testosterone table.
Who’s the imposing-looking tattooed guy at the far right, with what is either the thickest neck I’ve ever seen or a neck-covering double chin?
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Looks as though the Rite Spot needs a tarp. With the ability to tie it at the bottom so as to avoid flapping in the wind.
I’m going to buy some roll-up bamboo blinds to install before the next gathering.
Ah, okay. Good luck with that as they will probably flap around at least a bit.
All in all, it looks to have been a great party. I’ll never get over that whole sex-segregating thing, but to be fair, I suppose something like it can happen at Western parties, too. The kids certainly get their own table in the West.
I think living in a foreign country, especially one that has a different native language from English, insulates a person from all of the BS that is prevalent in said country. As you mentioned in your Quora reply, the Philippines is not perfect and a lot of crap that locals have to deal with you are able to avoid, either through blissful ignorance or the fact that your money helps smooth out some of the rough edges.
I am not in Thailand full time, but am there enough to experience the same thing. Locals will bitch about this or that and I can just claim ignorance or if it is a minor irritant (like something not working properly in the apartment, etc.), hiring someone to immediately fix it makes life easier.
(Though I do have to say, I think that the problems the US are portrayed to be having are a bit overblown. Living here, the “reality” that is portrayed on social media and media in general doesn’t match with the reality I see. I believe it is “confirmation bias” in many cases. Anyway, no place is perfect.)
Brian, I agree that the expat experience is quite different from the day-to-day living of the locals. It also helps that I am living “rich” and never have to worry about where the rent money is coming from. But almost all the Filipinos I encounter are kind, friendly, and welcoming.
One of the benefits of living here is not having to constantly be exposed to the idiocy of the political situation. I still read the news every day from my trusted sources, and then I try not to think about the inevitable repercussions that come when your “leaders” are incompetent. I think the reality of millions crossing our Southern border illegally, uncontrolled spending leading to inflation, intentionally undermining our energy independence, etc., will come with consequences we have yet to begin to see. I hope I don’t have to fight that war.
Yep, the “guests'” fuck up was more sloppiness than ignorance. And “lang” in Tagalog means “only.” Someone says something, I call “bola bola” (bullshit), and they respond, “joke lang.”
Ha ha, my apologies to the French. It’s just how the gals roll here.
The big guy at the table is Dan (AKA Gasman), a Hispanic-American and retired military. He’s very active in the veterans community, a dog lover, and a biker. He also works out at the gym regularly, and I’m guessing that’s a thick neck.
Yes, those sheets just blew around like flags. I need something a little heavier that I can tie at the bottom. It’s on the list.
I’ve noticed the sex segregation here as well. It must be a cultural thing, and as long as everyone is happy, I don’t mind.
Gem and her crew at a party and they are all looking at the phone. Come on guys. Unless you are looking at Long Time Gone, then carry on.
“There is a squatter shanty about halfway up. Hope everyone is okay”. Relax. Got a State Farm salesman buddy. He told me they are fine and have submitted their insurance claim already.
“The party in full swing”. So this was a swingers party?
Sign Christian up for the PI olympic team. Looks like the balance beam is his forte.
“Then the white folk began arriving”. Good thing the mayor of Boston, Michelle Wu, was not on the party planning committee.
“The Filipina table”. So now Buddy identifies as a woman?
McCrarey, you look like you are definitely two sheets to the wind in the couples pic.
I’m digging the Drunkin Grownups tee.
Peace Out!
Soju, it’s 2024–of course, they were looking at their phones. Other than Gem, I don’t know any of them, and they didn’t seem interested in talking to the foreigner. That suits me just fine. I hate pretending.
I hope it wasn’t a swingers party–guys outnumbered gals three to one!
Yeah, Christian walking the railing scared the crap out of me. It’s a LONG way down from there.
Nope, Buddy still has his balls; he just likes hanging with the gals. Go figure.
I’d only been drinking for around 8 hours when that photo was taken. I’d say the fact that my eyes are open speaks well of my endurance capabilities. But yeah, I was a tad on the drunk side.