One Hell of a Party

Stephen and I were married ten years ago on the Fourth of July. You might think that's a strange day to get married, but when most of our friends were still at the bottom of the corporate ladder, it was the one weekend we could be sure they would get off. It also helps Stephen remember our anniversary.
In the Philippines, this day has the added benefit of being Filipino-American Friendship day. What's this, you ask? Well, when the US benevolently granted the Philippines it's independence in 1946, we did it on July 4th, thereby forcing our former colony to celebrate our independence along with theirs. (Annoying little bastards, aren't we?) This, however, totally ignores the fact that the Philippines actually first declared it's independence from Spain on June 12th, 1898. We just didn't recognize it at that time because, frankly, we had designs on the place. (And, you may not know, we fought a bloody war to take it, too. Did you learn that in American history class? I didn't think so.) Anyhoo, the Philippines finally changed it's independence day in 1964, but in order not to disappoint the Americans (who, at that time, had two of it's largest bases in the world on these shores), they renamed the fourth as Fil-Am Friendship day.

And this deserves a party, no? Stephen and I even brought the White Castle hamburgers which you can now buy frozen at a Costco-esque store here in the Philippines. People scarfed them down, though few actually admitted to liking them. It's sort of like White Castle in the States, now that I think about it.

Here are a few other photos from the night:
There's a tradition of gift-giving in the Philippines called "pasalubong." Whenever you travel, you're expected to bring something back for the friends you left behind. Now among our friends, pasalubong has become something of a sport. Most of the time, they ask for things that are extremely difficult to find--not because they want the item, mind you, but rather because you will have to run all over creation to get whatever it is. Like Jimmy and Paul's 2008 Celtics' championship hats. Easy to buy in Boston, but not so easy in Columbus, especially a week after the series was over. We actually got them in the Detroit airport on the way back, so a photo finish I would say. They won't wear them after a year. Just you wait and see.
Another pasalubong triumph: Ben's Obama shirt. I thought this would be an easy one, and Ben's been a staunch Obama supporter from the beginning. No problem, I thought. Just head down to campaign headquarters in Columbus and pick one up. No dice. They had none. Campaign headquarters. What do they do there all day, then? I called the office in Cleveland, since we were heading up there for the Indians game (see previous post). Nothing. You have to buy them online, I was told. I didn't have that kind of time, unfortunately, so we headed to Ohio State's campus, where in the third head shop we went to, we got a good tip: Urban Outfitters. You may be more interested in the first part of that sentence: head shop? Yeah, apparently, kids at OSU smoke quite a bit of dope. I have never seen such a good selection of bongs. Very impressive. But I'm hoping that like me you're wondering why a publically-traded national clothing chain like Urban Outfitters is selling campaign shirts (for only one candidate)? I would like to think it's a good omen for the upcoming election, but they probably just know their demographic insanely well. Well, thanks to those market researchers, I found Ben his t-shirt, which was the last one in the store.
Lest you think we did everything for this party, I would like to draw your attention to the bodacious plate of sausages brought by our friend and favorite chef, Sol. There were three of those lying around, so if you didn't get enough pork at this party, it was your own damn fault (to quote my dad). Nonoy also brought a Cebuano specialty, lumpia ngoyong, which Stephen bothers him for all the damn time. Is there pork in it, you ask? Um, this is the Philippines, people. Don't ask stupid questions.
Stephen's contribution were the lovely banners in the background (with thanks to Paul and Jimmy for getting them printed) and the toasting glasses we used at our wedding that he smuggled from home without my knowledge. No Dom Perignon this time: mine's a Cerveza Negra (San Miguel Dark), his is a San Miguel. When in Rome...A good time was had by all. Maybe too good a time. And maybe the Colonel just couldn't find a lampshade.

P.S. Thanks to Reg, Anabel, Wilson, and the whole Oarhouse crew for making the party happen. Actually, they had two simultaneous parties going at once, yet no one was without beer, which was pretty impressive. They are the best, clearly.