Tuesday, 8 October

• Walked the dog. Yes, I am now counting this as exercise.

• 30 Day Shred, Level 1
• Swimming: 30 laps

I crashed the guys’ poker night at Kawayan. It was supposed to be my big experiment on “drinking moderately” and I got to figuring out that about three Red Horses, nursed throughout the night, would be just about right. And then I proceeded to drink double that. Stopped for more beer at 101.

Wednesday, 9 October

Got up at 5:30 AM to go to the market. Yes, I am doing this now. This is my attempt at “responsibility”. Let’s jusy say that I now have three freezers full of meat and seafood and that I won’t have to go to the market at 5:30 AM again for a while. (The meat is freshest around that time since they usually butcher a pig around 5 AM everyday.)

Then, I biked to Driftwood for lunch. It was the first time I crossed over the Kilometer 0 marker in General Luna going towards Cloud 9 by myself! (Mommy, mommy, looky!) I was so proud!

It was also the first time in a long while that I biked without any music on and I realized a few things: (1) that my cheap-ass bike makes quite a racket and (2) so do I. It’s actually quiet out on the road when you’re not on a motorbike, or on a bicycle singing at the top of your lungs. And maybe yelling “good morning” at everyone I pass might be jarring for the old folk. Sigh… Sometimes ignorance is truly bliss.

Driftwood is under new management (and, as of last week, has changed its name to The Curry Pot – revised 21 Oct. 2013). It offers all-day breakfasts, and deli meats that you can have in subs or toasts. I had a sub, which was just okay. It would have been better if they had grilled the bread and melted the cheese. I only found out later that I should have ordered toast instead. (Duh.)

It’s a weird sort of joint because it’s a small space with only one big table. We were the only guests at that time and the serving girls and the owners were hanging around and, of course, they could hear all of our conversations, and we were three girls girl-talking and catching up. We weren’t too comfortable with that.

Before I left, I joined the girls for coffee. Big mistake. I felt worse than if I had a hangover. I collapsed in bed and tried not to die.

Thursday, 10 October

• Walked the dog. I learned today that when walking one’s dog in a short dress on a windy day, one risks broadcasting one’s bottom to the world in pursuit of a wayward hat.

• 30 Day Shred, Level 1

Friday, 11 October

• Walked the dog.
• 30 Day Shred, Level 1
• Kettlebell swings: 3 sets x 20 reps
• Swimming: 20 laps

You do know that all that activity was in anticipation of a massive hangover the next day, right?

Saturday, 12 October

I woke up at around 8:30 AM.

Last night, I had dinner at Nine Bar with the owners, Swedish couple, Peter and Elsa, and tried their Indonesian specials by their new Indonesian cook. I had about three glasses of wine. And then the Norwegians showed up. They ordered a pitcher of some nasty concoction and started pouring shots. The DJ started to play…

And that’s all I remember. I had no idea what time I had left, how I had gotten home… I panicked and texted people. Of course, no one was up at 8:30 AM. So I went down the check list:

• Body – A few nicks and cuts on the legs, but nothing too weird.
• Phone – No drunken texts or calls. No calls to the habal (motorbike taxi) driver too, so I still didn’t know how I got home.
• Computer – No drunken posts.

So far, so good.

My clothes were in the hamper. The shoes though were strewn all over the place. I had a lot less money, which meant that I must have paid my bills. I had also let the dog in so maybe I wasn’t that much of a basket case when I got home.

By 10:30 AM, I got my first text. Apparently, I had gone off with Nine Bar’s DJ after his set to the jungle disco, where I ordered more drinks but kept dropping them. He said he didn’t see me leave. He gave me a new nickname: Messy Beaucoup.

I had the maid make me some vegetable soup and crawled back into bed.

Then I got a text from Elsa. Was I coming to lunch? Holy shit! I made lunch plans? On a weekend?! What a bloody amateur! Someone’s birthday party and I didn’t even know whose. I commandeered a habal and made it to General Luna in record time.

It would turn out that the birthday lunch (for the Indonesian cook’s daughter) wouldn’t be ready till “oh, three or five. Not now. Too hot.” Peter, Elsa and I walked over next door to Driftwood. The toast was definitely much better than the sub but I still would have liked the bread more toasted and the cheese melted.

This time, the serving girls were in uniform. I don’t think they had them on before or I would have noticed, and I am quite notorious for not noticing things, but these uniforms were kinda hard to miss. They were wearing what looked like school uniforms with short red skirts and black see-through thigh-high stockings. Without any shoes. It was just wrong on so many levels. Especially in the day time heat!

I went back home late in the afternoon, hoping to catch some z’s before heading back out again for dinner, but that didn’t happen.

I swam 20 laps.

I went out again with the Swedes and the Norwegians. Some wild wind had kicked up quite a fuss earlier and the power was on and off. In the blackout, we tried to find a place to eat. Kalinaw was fully booked. The generator at Kawayan was down and David didn’t want to accept orders until the power came back on. Sagana couldn’t accommodate us. So we headed back to Nine Bar for the same Indonesian fare we had the night before.

The Norwegians filled in what they could of the previous night for me. They said they had ordered two pitchers of the shots we were doing. They said Jagermeisters were also involved. (No! That means Bianca Jager was out and she’s the nastiest Evil Twin of all!) They followed to the jungle disco, but didn’t see me there. They were pretty messed up too. They didn’t get up till 3 PM that day.

On my way back from a trip to the loo, I ran into the Indonesian cook. I almost didn’t recognize her, all dolled up.

“Why you don’t come to my dinner?”

“Because I thought it was lunch and I already had dinner plans.”

“I still have siomai.”

“Okay.”

“You come to my house and taste.”

“I’m really quite full, thank you. I just ate your food upstairs. It was very good.”

“Come on, you try.”

So that’s how I ended up at the Indonesian cook’s house (which was right behind Nine Bar) and met her Australian husband and two children, and her maid who insisted that I try the buko (coconut) salad.

When I got back to the dinner, the Norwegians were already settling their bills. They wanted to be ready for the surf the next day.

It was a quiet night at the bar, so I kept Peter company until midnight.

Sunday, 13 October

I thought I had made it home without the appearance of any of the Evil Twins. Until I got up to search for my phone. It wasn’t anywhere. I would have tried to call it except that it’s on “Do Not Disturb” mode from 11 PM to 10 AM. I must have blacked out when I got home. My money was strewn all over the place. I peeked outside. Sure enough, there it was. Lying face down on the grass. (Thank god for the Life Proof casing!) It must have fallen out while I was paying the habal driver. It’s a good thing it didn’t get squashed by the motorbike. Or get stolen.

I lay in bed, hungry. It was a Sunday and all was quiet at the staff house. I had a very specific craving for arroz ala cubana. When the maid got back from Church, I asked her to defrost some meat.

While I was cooking, I got a text from Peter and Elsa. Could they come over for lunch? They could bring pizza. Sure, why not? I was cooking enough for six anyway. I opened a bottle of cava to celebrate the day.

By the time they had gone, the heat had zapped my energy. All I wanted to do was sleep. But I weighed myself again and I hadn’t lost a single kilo. I forced myself to work out.

• 30 Day Shred, Level 1
• Swimming: 30 laps

I really should stop drinking.