It’s been a busy 24 hours. Late in the afternoon, I got a message from my ex saying she was back in town and I should visit her bar to welcome her home. I asked what time the festivities began, and while waiting for her response, I baked a batch of brownies for the celebration. Except she never responded. So, I started my beer o’clock excursion at Sloppy Joe’s instead. During beer number two, I finally heard from her saying my friend Johnny had arrived and he was waiting for me. Oh well, why not?
When I arrived, she was seated at a table with several other customers, a couple of whom I recognized. I greeted them and her. I sat with my friend Johnny at an adjacent table. I gave the brownies to my waitress to share with the other girls, and a couple of them joined me for lady drinks. When the guests at my ex’s table departed, I thought she might join me for some chat. Instead, she disappeared into a back room without a word. I now know how Charlie Brown must have felt with Lucy holding the football. Why I keep going back to have my nose rubbed into the fact that I’m nothing to her is a whole other level of stupid. Maybe I’ve finally got the message.
I went to Wet Spot and ordered some food to take home from Sit-n-Bull. Had a nice chat with Daddy Dave while waiting for my food to arrive. I came home, ate, and was in bed by 8:30. I’m not going to lie, my feelings were hurt, and I was in a sour mood. Woke up at midnight panting again. My oximeter read 87, so I nebulized and went back to sleep. I was back up to 93 when I woke up to start my day. I’m thinking that when I sleep, I’m not breathing right–maybe apnea or something caused by the total blockage of my sinuses. I think I’m going to try and consult with a doctor during my visit to Pattaya.
The Friday morning walk was Steve and Scott joining me on the streets of Olongapo City as we made our way to the immigration office. I needed to pick up my ECC paperwork permitting me to leave the country on Sunday.
We weren’t done with our hike yet, though. We departed immigration, hoofed it to the old Navy base, and walked around some more. I’ll share pictures from our walk at the end of this post.
Near the end of our walk, we stopped at the Lighthouse Hotel and grabbed a bite to eat poolside.
As we were walking back to the highway after lunch, I started experiencing some shortness of breath. Not wanting to be confined to an uncomfortable Jeepney, I opted to spring for a taxi ride back to Barretto. Once I was settled into a soft seat with aircon on my face, I felt fine again.
While I was eating, my phone rang. I almost didn’t answer because I wasn’t expecting a call and didn’t recognize the number. I’m glad I did because it was the post office outside my gate with a package to deliver. I advised that the gate was unlocked, and my helper was home to receive the delivery.
This post’s title notwithstanding, I knew what was in the box. Kevin Kim had advised me a couple of weeks ago that he was sending me some T-shirts. I’m not sure if he ever specified what kind of t-shirt; if so, I forgot. I just assumed there were from the batch he had made for one of his long-distance hikes. So, I was very surprised to open the box and find this beauty:
Speaking of Kevin Kim, Facebook memories shared this moment from four years ago:
Still on memory lane, here I am seven years ago on my to a Korean wedding:
And finally, ten years ago, my dart league team celebrated being champions of the Seoul International Dart League:
Alright, here are those photos I promised. Scott hasn’t posted his takes yet, so these will have to do for now.
And after that, we grabbed the taxi home.
Time to get ready for the SOB, but I’ll leave you with this food for thought:
“What’s in the box?” sounds like a reference to the movie Se7en.
Why I keep going back to have my nose rubbed into the fact that I’m nothing to her is a whole other level of stupid. Maybe I’ve finally got the message.
I think Koreans have it right: when you break up with someone, just cut them out of your life. Americans love to do this “my exes and I are friends now” nonsense, which often turns out to be a lie. With that much history and baggage, it’s better just to move on. Why Americans keep creeping back to the poisoned well, I’ll never understand. It’s a great example of what’s called attachment in Buddhism. Let—it—go.
re: breathing
So much for my theories.
re: photo of my address
Any way you can blur or mosaic out my address? Thanks. If not, I guess it’s not a huge deal.
Scott is a Navy vet. Steve is an Aussie.
This is funny for some reason.
Count your blessings?
She’s got long arms.
Looks to have been a great walk on a beautiful day.
That badly proportioned and weirdly colored sailor statue looks plain silly, even by dubious Philippine standards.
Pretty ironic since the other one, with the series of handprints along the base, is supposed to symbolize “the hands that freed the nation,” i.e. the petulant senators who foolishly voted to evict the US from Subic Bay after overplaying their hand at extortion drenched in adolescent quasi-nationalist rhetoric, and with no real plan in place for converting the base to effective civilian use or addressing contaminants left behind, much less providing for the nation’s defense as China became increasingly bellicose and belligerent.
Oh well, if we keep smiling and congratulating ourselves, no one will think to question the truth of the matter….
But I’m not bitter. Just a bit bemused by the endless absurdity.
Hey, DS. Interesting perspectives. I’ve often wondered if there has been any regret about telling us to leave, especially with China literally knocking on the back door (and stealing whatever else they want). I guess the answer is yes in light of the recent agreement to host US forces at four new bases here.
I never knew that statue was meant to honor those foolish Senators who wanted us gone. I see it completely differently now.
Kev, let it go is excellent advice. At our parting, promises were made to remain special friends. I felt an obligation to try and do so, which made turning down her invitations hard for me to do. It is now painfully apparent that I mean nothing to her, and that makes it easier to Let–it–go once and for all.
Ha! I remember that movie but hadn’t even thought of that box in relation to the post title. Honestly, it was more of a Gollum thing.
I think these breathing issues may have multiple causes, but they are all manifestations of my COPD. The next step is getting my nostrils cleared so I can breathe through my nose again. I just need some reassurance that the surgery won’t kill me (general anesthesia doesn’t go well with COPD).
Your address is no longer visible. Sorry I didn’t notice that in the original post.