After a grueling 24 hours of not sleeping a wink while inebriated with champagne (I lost count after my 5th glass) and wearing the last smudges of mascara from the wedding party the night before my super-delayed flight, I finally made it to Georgia.
I'm here now in a charming city called Lawrenceville in the county of Gwinnett, Ga. I've been in and out of Georgia in the past 10 years and each time I'm here, I feel so at peace and at home. My brother Noli, who's an anesthetist, have made Georgia his home for more than 12 years now. The charm of the south has apparently wooed him to stay this long. Who wouldn't be when the weather is as sunny as back home (in the PI where else?) with just the right dose of "cold" to counteract all that sun. (Unlike last Saturday when my curls almost froze from the wind and the rain while attending my sorority sister Monette's wedding in NJ.)
Let's backtrack a little. Last Friday I went to Monette's reception dinner an hour and a half late. I know it's a sin to be late in this part of the world, but when you're in Hoboken, parking is as hard to find as the Holy Grail. There I was, in my blue, clingy knit dress and heels driving aimlessly in the one-way streets of Hoboken without a clue where I was going. At 8:45 pm (the dinner was at 7:30) I was already sweating like a roasted pig and was thinking of not showing up anymore. But finally, after much cursing and hissing, I was able to find a sweet spot just 2 blocks from Wild Ginger, an Asian restaurant in Washington St. Of course, after a million apologies to Monette and her whole family, I felt so relieved to have made it in one piece (although at that time I had no inkling whether the car will be towed or fined -- but neither happened, so I guess I parked on the right spot).
The next day, I promised that I wouldn't be late for the wedding. And so, at 1 pm, I was already curling my hair to be able to make it to the 2:30 ceremony. After a stressful time with my wardrobe (there were no buttons, no snaps, just a flimsy sash to hold everything together -- it was like a scene in Survivor NJ where I had to make do with a minuscule safety pin to preserve my dignity and my sanity), I jumped in Mark's car (a friend of my sister's) and was at St. Ann's by 2:15 pm. A few minutes later, my sorority batchmates Marge and Marose arrived (with Marose complaining about her stilettos and the parking, what else?). We haven't seen each other for 10 years, so you could just imagine how happy we were -- stilettos, satin static, and safety pins notwithstanding.
Monette's wedding was a simple but intimate affair. It was so like Monette, very straightforward, no frou-frou, yet romantic in every way. The reception was beautiful, in spite of the uncooperative weather (it was freezing cold, and the rain and fog ruined the view of Manhattan which was, in the first place, the whole idea behind holding the reception at Chart House in Weehawken -- I think they should demand a discount!). The ka-bitches (it's actually ka-batches, but I think the former fits us all perfectly) and I had a blast with the food, the company, and the conversation. Micki Poe came all the way from Manila and Minnesota, Marge from Missouri, and Suzette from Manila (actually she would fly to and from another planet if need be because she can't possibly miss her twin sister's wedding!). We were expecting Cynthia to fly from LA but a telenovela-like scenario made her miss her 11 am flight to NY. More of the wedding, Batch '90, and the Table 10 girls when I get some pictures from the ka-bitches. Calling Marge, Suzette, Micki -- email me the photos ASAP!
The night ended with us passing around Cosmopolitans at the Sheraton (Marge was insistent to have those SITC drinks because we were after all in NY although technically we were still in NJ overlooking New York City), promising to see each other in Paris when our batch turns 20 years. Oh my goodness, has it been that long? It feels just like yesterday when I danced while singing Boy George's The War Song on the steps of Palma Hall in Diliman (in make up and costume!). Now, most of us are married, with kids, mortgages (them not me), and ex-husbands (them not me).
Time flies so fast. And now, I'm here. In Georgia. But dreaming of the UP Sigma Delta Phi tambayan, the late night bonding (ok, drinking) sessions with sisters, the camaraderie on the steps of Palma, the gimmicks, the parties, the lifetime pledge of love and support, and the years of sisterhood that started almost 20 years ago on that tea party in La Vista. I wish we were complete last Friday (all 15, er, 16 of us -- no controversies please!), maybe in Paris, we will be. But hey, for those who made it -- it was great to see you ka-batches!
I'm here now in a charming city called Lawrenceville in the county of Gwinnett, Ga. I've been in and out of Georgia in the past 10 years and each time I'm here, I feel so at peace and at home. My brother Noli, who's an anesthetist, have made Georgia his home for more than 12 years now. The charm of the south has apparently wooed him to stay this long. Who wouldn't be when the weather is as sunny as back home (in the PI where else?) with just the right dose of "cold" to counteract all that sun. (Unlike last Saturday when my curls almost froze from the wind and the rain while attending my sorority sister Monette's wedding in NJ.)
Let's backtrack a little. Last Friday I went to Monette's reception dinner an hour and a half late. I know it's a sin to be late in this part of the world, but when you're in Hoboken, parking is as hard to find as the Holy Grail. There I was, in my blue, clingy knit dress and heels driving aimlessly in the one-way streets of Hoboken without a clue where I was going. At 8:45 pm (the dinner was at 7:30) I was already sweating like a roasted pig and was thinking of not showing up anymore. But finally, after much cursing and hissing, I was able to find a sweet spot just 2 blocks from Wild Ginger, an Asian restaurant in Washington St. Of course, after a million apologies to Monette and her whole family, I felt so relieved to have made it in one piece (although at that time I had no inkling whether the car will be towed or fined -- but neither happened, so I guess I parked on the right spot).
The next day, I promised that I wouldn't be late for the wedding. And so, at 1 pm, I was already curling my hair to be able to make it to the 2:30 ceremony. After a stressful time with my wardrobe (there were no buttons, no snaps, just a flimsy sash to hold everything together -- it was like a scene in Survivor NJ where I had to make do with a minuscule safety pin to preserve my dignity and my sanity), I jumped in Mark's car (a friend of my sister's) and was at St. Ann's by 2:15 pm. A few minutes later, my sorority batchmates Marge and Marose arrived (with Marose complaining about her stilettos and the parking, what else?). We haven't seen each other for 10 years, so you could just imagine how happy we were -- stilettos, satin static, and safety pins notwithstanding.
Monette's wedding was a simple but intimate affair. It was so like Monette, very straightforward, no frou-frou, yet romantic in every way. The reception was beautiful, in spite of the uncooperative weather (it was freezing cold, and the rain and fog ruined the view of Manhattan which was, in the first place, the whole idea behind holding the reception at Chart House in Weehawken -- I think they should demand a discount!). The ka-bitches (it's actually ka-batches, but I think the former fits us all perfectly) and I had a blast with the food, the company, and the conversation. Micki Poe came all the way from Manila and Minnesota, Marge from Missouri, and Suzette from Manila (actually she would fly to and from another planet if need be because she can't possibly miss her twin sister's wedding!). We were expecting Cynthia to fly from LA but a telenovela-like scenario made her miss her 11 am flight to NY. More of the wedding, Batch '90, and the Table 10 girls when I get some pictures from the ka-bitches. Calling Marge, Suzette, Micki -- email me the photos ASAP!
The night ended with us passing around Cosmopolitans at the Sheraton (Marge was insistent to have those SITC drinks because we were after all in NY although technically we were still in NJ overlooking New York City), promising to see each other in Paris when our batch turns 20 years. Oh my goodness, has it been that long? It feels just like yesterday when I danced while singing Boy George's The War Song on the steps of Palma Hall in Diliman (in make up and costume!). Now, most of us are married, with kids, mortgages (them not me), and ex-husbands (them not me).
Time flies so fast. And now, I'm here. In Georgia. But dreaming of the UP Sigma Delta Phi tambayan, the late night bonding (ok, drinking) sessions with sisters, the camaraderie on the steps of Palma, the gimmicks, the parties, the lifetime pledge of love and support, and the years of sisterhood that started almost 20 years ago on that tea party in La Vista. I wish we were complete last Friday (all 15, er, 16 of us -- no controversies please!), maybe in Paris, we will be. But hey, for those who made it -- it was great to see you ka-batches!
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