On this side of the world, a girl blossoms into a young lady not at 18 as is the custom back in Manila, but rather at 16. Alan and I are attending a Sweet Sixteen tomorrow at a posh venue here in Long Island. So I bought a nice black dress (nothing too vampy or sexy) and I had to get a nice pair of shoes to go with it. So I’m all set, and I’m all excited. This is a Filipina lass so there are bound to be a lot of kababayans there.
I have a full day of work tomorrow so I will have to pull off the manicure in the office. (The boss is back.. and since I don’t see him until next Friday, I have no plans to cut out early.) I have my make up all planned, my accessories laid out, my choice of a teeny-weeny purse to carry, and I’m all set. When I was 18, I had my own debut but I chose to hold it at home. It was a fun party with lots of guests, a gown of my choosing, a guest chef (a very amiable lady who offered to cook for us free of charge.. Tita Eppie Ramos who lives behind the Circle theatre in Quezon City), I had my own poem printed on my invitation, a nice souvenir and I was happy.
My Mom had blown the whistle on my having a boyfriend to my Dad just days before so Dad and I were a little distant but he was my first dance. Except for that major crinkle, everything went beautifully. I didn’t particularly feel my world change much after that 18th birthday but I felt like I had hit a milestone. That day now seems a whole lifetime ago.