The weather is 90 degrees and above in Manila and humid. Getting in and out of the Uber (car service) or walking to the nearest Starbucks means my skin will begin to feel sticky as if I have another layer of skin.
After lunch and one such jaunt about town, we go back to the condo and I take my second cold shower of the day. Napoleon is ready for his afternoon nap.
While out, I noticed most of the woman grow their hair long for easy management ( I guess) and pin it up. I mean, who wants to blow dry their hair daily when you can walk outside and let it dry in three minutes?
Apparently, I do and tried. I have short hair. But, even with the AC on inside my son’s condo, I had perspiration stuck behind my neck as I blow dried my hair. I knew the minute I stepped outside it would go limp. Finally, I had to accept the idea of having a cute hairstyle with body was NOT going to happen in Manila.
Here’s another beauty issue I had while in the Philippines–my blush, eye liner, and lip liner would not stay on. Certain beauty regimens, I just had to LET GO.
I decided that for my next trip, I will get extensions and have my eyebrows, eyeliner, and lip liner tattooed on.
On, my fourth day of vacation, my son, Christopher, and his girlfriend, Ruth, had tickets to a Chvrches concert. It’s an indie band and although it is read as “churches” the “u” is in fact written as a “v.” Christopher and Ruth asked if I wanted to go with them? All their friends were going.
Sure, I said, it’s not like I’m busy.
I started to think . . . when was the last time I went to a concert?
Let’s see, I’m certain it was the beginning of Obama’s presidency.
I went to see Fleetwood Mac.
Christopher, Ruth, and I went to the concert at 10 pm, which was past my bedtime but I was a sport. I was going to show up.
We ordered drinks and inside the dome the concert started. Walking in with my drink and wearing a thick bracelet that glowed in the dark, the sound of drums and singing went straight to my heart. I felt like the drummer was using my heart as a drum. The vibration of the music rattled my whole body.
I’m cringing, folks . . . it’s a BIT loud, will this affect my hearing? my vertigo issue? I hope not. I’m was glad I had my vertigo meds with me just in case.
“YOU GOOD, MOM?” Christopher shouted at me.
“YEAH,” I yelled back. “This is exactly what I had in mind, son,” I mouthed, but I’m not sure he heard me.
I love the fact that he was concerned for my well being at the concert. I raised a good boy.
After the concert, they asked me to go clubbin’ with them.
Me? I’m as old as a tree. You want me to join you at a night club?Alrighty then.
They took me to a night club called Valkyrie.
Kimberly, one of my son’s friends, is one of the owners.
She’s a young girl on the move–owning a business.
“You go girl!”, I thought. “I know your mama is proud!”
When we entered the night club the DJ had on the music hit by Pharrell called Happy. It’s a catchy tune.
By now my gin and tonic from the indie concert was flowing nicely in my bloodstream so I began to be-bop to it. Tight bodies and brown skin were everywhere.
I felt so out of place as an older person, but I didn’t let on. I told myself “Act like you belong.”
Valkryie resembled a Las Vegas night club. I was told that was the look and feel they were going for. “I like it,” I told Christopher.
It was very swanky and spacious, had cream leather couches, and tiny tables that had an array of gin, vodka , tequila, and shot glasses all set to go. Waiters dressed in all black waited on you hand and foot. That’s my kind of service.
If you are ever in Manila, check it out.