Pajammy Party

Pillow fights, secrets, s'mores and scary stories. Sleeping bag not required.

Crepes, chicken skin and an explosion of foil

There was a plan. It was vague, but it was a plan.

People would go to Jill’s house so she can crack open her new bottles of vodka. She has a thing for Absolut in the weirdest flavors – I kinda blame the rekindling of that obsession on the bottle I brought home from South Africa (Watkins!) and the bottle Tim picked up in Abu Dhabi (Grapevine!).

It sounded like a good plan, even though vodka and I have been enemies for a while now, ever since we played that insane Snakes & Ladders drinking game in a hotel room and they forced me to down shots of vodka, even after I begged and begged for them to let me skip a turn. That night ended with me crying and crawling to the toilet to puke. So yeah, fuck you vodka.

But Giff bailed because he was going out with GA. And Michelle couldn’t, her babies were still sleeping.

Vodka night cancelled.

That’s fine, I thought, that meant I could stay in and have a granny Saturday.

See, here’s the thing: I love my granny Saturdays. I don’t like going out, I don’t like dressing up, all I want to do is stay on the couch with my special blanket and my laptop (or my iPad).

So I settled in for what was going to be a quiet, granny Saturday. I wasted hours on YouTube, watching Ellen interview different people, watching Mila Kunis speak Russian, watching those W and New York Times screen test sessions and listening to Seth Rogen’s weird laugh (I seriously want to be Seth Rogen in my next life).

But then, at 10 p.m., Jill says, “Do you want to go to Cafe Breton?”

Bye bye, granny Saturday. Hello, crepes.

We drove to Cafe Breton in Commonwealth. I had no idea it even existed – I had never seen that Technohub place before. And it blew my mind because I spent a huge chunk of my life driving through Commonwealth to get to my high school and my university and back home. And when I say driving through, I mean someone else was driving and I was in the passenger seat. Or the backseat. Except for that one time I tried to drive post-driving school. I successfully made it to the house before deciding that I just didn’t want to drive. Ever.

But back to the crepes.

Jill and I kept missing the goddamn entrance to Technohub so we ended up going around Quezon City Circle three freaking times. Naturally, I became dizzy.

Lele and their friend Mae were waiting at Breton and we spent an hour or so eating crepes and chatting. It was raining when we left and as we brisk-walked to the car, I marveled at the realization that my gold Yosi Samras were doing an excellent job at protecting my feet from the rain and puddles.

The butter and sugar crepe did not satisfy. Still hungry, we headed to Katipunan in search of food. Shakey’s? Nah. McDonald’s? Jollibee? Nah. Burger King? Maybe.

Then, Jill had a lightbulb moment. Route 196 pizza!

But granny reared her cranky head again – I wanted some pizza and maybe some beer but I wasn’t in the mood to sit in a bar and watch a band.

So Jill ordered pizza, chicken skin, tinapa rolls and we waited for the food in the car. And when the food finally came, it was like an explosion of foil. You see, Route 196 isn’t really a takeout place. They didn’t have boxes so they wrapped everything in foil. Hilarious. And delicious.

As we were getting ready to attack the food, I made the quick decision that no, this wasn’t going to be my Coke-worthy meal for August.

Last month, I made the decision that I will only allow myself to drink one can or one glass of Coke a month. I don’t like Coke Light, I don’t like Coke Zero, regular Coke is the only Coke I like drinking. It’s not healthy, I know, so I decided to cut down without completely depriving myself. I get one Coke a month and I get to choose when and where I’ll have it so I better make it count. And no, tonight wasn’t the night for it.

So I had my pizza and my chicken skin with water and they were delicious.

And now I’m back in front of the computer, determined to continue my granny session, ignoring Cesar Millan on TV and trying to resist the lure of YouTube so I can Reddit and write about polish.


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