Yesterday was a different kind of nothing. It began with a morning fast and then a trip to the clinic in Olongapo to have my blood work done. They require at least an eight-hour fast, but more than ten is a disqualifying “over fast.” I split the difference and did nine. Once the blood was drawn, I was free to eat once again, so we visited the Xtreme Xpresso Cafe on SBMA.
On the way back home we stopped at DiviMart where I purchased these:
I’m planning a rooftop gathering for Sunday afternoon and wanted to be sure I’d have adequate seating for everyone.
Back at the house, I was feeling lethargic and lightheaded all day. I don’t think they took that much blood, so it must have just been one of those days. I blogged and napped, but I just didn’t feel like going out when beer o’clock arrived. That meant sacrificing the last day of validity on my “buy one, get one” coupon at Alaska Club, but some things just can’t be helped.
I settled in to watch Mother Nature’s show with a cooler full of cold beers, a comfortable seat in my rocking chair, and a personally tailored playlist of songs from Spotify.
I placed my order for dinner, and it arrived in due course.
I enjoyed another beer by lamplight, then headed back downstairs for my daily dose of “Shameless.” I’m into Season 10 now, and it is still holding my interest, which says a lot. There is one more season to go after this one.
A good night’s sleep, and I woke up feeling somewhat better this morning. Still, I bailed on the Friday group hike and took a walk with Swan instead. I’ll post about that tomorrow.
Someone posted the virtues of hiking on Facebook this morning and I stole it to share with my faithful readers here:
Today’s Quora Q&A (these are questions I’ve answered over the years):
Q: How do I find out what my purpose is in my life?
A: Well, I’m not a religious man, but the other day, I was feeling depressed. So, I got down on my knees and prayed to God, asking, “Why am I here? What is my purpose in life?” Again, I’m not a true believer; I’m just getting it off my chest. I certainly wasn’t expecting an answer. And then, I heard God’s voice. He said, “John, what is your purpose in life? You are my gift to women!” At least, that’s how I remember it.
It has over a hundred views and not one upvote. Go figure.
And Kevin, this one’s for you:
And then there is this:
One more for the road:
I’m not exactly sure what’s on tap for tonight. I’m supposed to meet up with an old “friend” I haven’t heard from in five years. I have no idea why she wanted to see me again, but she traveled to Olongapo from Manila to do so, so I’m curious enough to find out. And don’t worry, she knows I have a girlfriend, and I’m bringing Swan along. I’ll let y’all know how that goes.
Oh, and we have a scheduled all-day (6 a.m. to 6 p.m.) brownout (no power) tomorrow. I’m having my driver take us to Pundaquit to fill some of those hours. I’m not sure when or how I’ll blog, but I’ll do my best to post some form of update. Till then.
Today’s song is even older than me. Not sure why it came to mind.
Six more chairs for the Rite Spot On The Roof
Aha! Those are the chairs that feature in all those YouTube videos of people falling over as their deck chairs collapse! Have fun! (True, in most cases, the chairs don’t collapse on their own. As you see in this video, they usually have a little percussive help,)
Inday joined us on the rooftop with her mother and daughter.
Geraldine, Inday… she’s like a spy with aliases.
Ya done good, Mr. Sun.
That’d look good on a gravestone.
re: hors d’oeuvre
Known as “whoreses doovers” in my childhood household or “horse’s ovaries” to the unwashed masses.
Hors = outside (of)
d’oeuvre = of a work (of art, etc.)
An hors d’oeuvre is a smaller dish that is “outside of the main work,” i.e., “le plat principal,” or the main course. In the States, we use it to mean “appetizer,” but the French often say “amuse-bouche” (“amuse-the-mouth,” something to titillate) when they mean an appetizer. And what we call an “entrée” (main course) the French, as said above, call “le plat principal,” i.e., literally “the main dish.” The French, when eating traditionally, use “entrée” to refer to the dish before the main course (but after the appetizer? unsure). One site labels the phases of a French meal thus:
1. Un apéritif
2. Un hors d’oeuvre ou une entrée
3. Un plat principal (avec de la viande, du poisson et des légumes)
4. Une salade
5. Du fromage
6. (peut-être) un dessert
7. Un café (un express)
1. an aperitif (pre-meal drink)
2. hors d’oeuvre (so maybe the same as “entrée” and “amuse-bouche”)
3. main course (with meat, fish, and vegetables)
4. salad
5. cheese
6. (maybe) dessert
7. coffee (espresso)
re: “I know my way around a dildo.”
And the guy said that, eh? Fascinating, Captain.
I’m not sure when or how I’ll blog, but I’ll do my best to post some form of update.
Good time to learn how to blog from your phooooonnnnnnne…
Minor nit-pick but your landlord should resurface the rooftop bar. Looks like it was done very poorly to begin with, or maybe improper drainage allowed water to seep in and settle?
However, in the grand scheme of things, this one ranks pretty low I suppose.
“I have no idea why she wanted to see me again…”
I’ll take a wild guess here: Pera!
Predict a tale of woe.
The landlord did tile the portion in front of the bathroom she had built. I’m not sure why she didn’t do the whole roof. We’ll see what happens during rainy season…
I have had those cheap plastic chairs break on me, even without the percussion. The ones I bought are a sturdier version that will hopefully hold up better than the ones in the video.
Fascinating French eating lesson, not that I’ll ever have cause to use it. I sometimes order a beer in Korean just to create confusion. Tonight I was surprised when the bartender not only understood but responded in Korean.
I’m an old dog, and phone blogging is a new trick. Honestly, I have a hard enough time with brief messages on the tiny keypad; there is no way I’d have the patience to do a blog post.
She’s coming with friends and paying her way, including food and lodging. She won’t be getting a peso from me. My fantasy is that she will repay a “loan” from five years ago. Hey, one can dream!