Photo courtesy of onthisdeity.com
Today we salute every woman in the world. The moms. The little girls. The aunts. Our besties. Girlfriends. To say that it’s tough being a woman in a still predominantly macho culture is an understatement. Hence, we take a break today, look back, appreciate, not only the milestones of the great women of history and today, but each little thing we do in our lives, which defines us as a woman.
So kick off the heels and get comfy on the couch, pour a glass of red and savor the universe at your feet.
Photo courtesy of aauw.org
I’ve known Joboy since we were in diapers.
I grew up with him in Hagonoy. His Mom is my mother’s best friend. Job and I have been roommates for almost four years now. I’m used to having him around: late night TV, junk food bingeing in the middle of the night and bonding over GPS green tea. Needless to say, he’s like a brother from another mother.
Last night, we threw a dinner party for him because he’s leaving for abroad on Tuesday. Just like most of our childhood friends, he has decided to pursue better career opportunities abroad. Will surely gonna miss him.
There was also another reason why we had dinner last night, to celebrate the feast day of Saint Lorenzo Ruiz. He’s the patron saint of Hagonoy.
I haven’t been home for 9 years now, and I miss it so bad. Hopefully I could go home this summer.
Back home, they still celebrate fiesta the grand way with lots of food, people, mass, music and dancing. And since it was a tradition we have observed since we were kids, we still do it now even if we’re far from home. So we had pasta, sisig, grilled pork chop, chocolate mousse and wine. The gesture made us feel closer to home.
Sorry, last photo taken using tablet and so blurry.
St. Lorenzo Ruiz photo from livesofsaints.tripod.com.
Can you spot the infamous wine? And I’m sure you can smell Evert’s desperation to eat healthy and lose weight. Plus the stink of my perpetual denial of the need to diet.
You know how it is when you’re totally convinced that it’s just another uneventful day and then wham! you bump into something and your life is changed forever. And I mean forever.
So after devoting time reading and blogging two entries, I had to drag myself out of bed because I can no longer ignore my grumbling stomach. I was thinking oatmeal because I’m not exactly the most devoted cook in the morning. Plus I’m not exactly keen on reheating leftover food from the Chinese new year “party” last night. Too much effort for lazy old me. So I opened the fridge after mouthing a silent prayer that I’d find some surprise food there fit for breakfast and more exciting than oatmeal. Hmmm. Tons of veggies Evert grabbed from the grocery because he thought they were cheap. My brother and I really like to pretend we eat healthy. Then there was the wine left from the new year’s eve party, not the Chinese new year but the Jan 1 party. I really should throw it out. Wrinkled blueberries. They got crinkly after that first time they got thawed. They had looked lonely since then. Miracle Whip. Oh wait, we have roasted chicken from last night. Can I dip it in Miracle Whip? Mmm. No, thanks. Not in the mood for cold chicken. That’s when I saw the leftover pizza neatly stacked on the big blue plate covered with my fave swirly red plate. Who says you can’t have leftover pizza for breakfast?
So cold pizza and milk for breakfast. It’s like the biggest discovery I’ve had since that time I found out I’ve been tying my shoelaces wrong. You can have junk food for breakfast because sometimes you have to show your tummy who’s boss. And you can’t do worse than cold pizza and milk. I’m pretty sure that in some parallel universe, it’s the breakfast of champions.