Immesi 
Today is March 8, Women's Day, and even if all you say that you do not care, well, I do not believe credo.Non because they are the first to say that it is not a day to celebrate. Just as I'm not Father's Day or mamma.Non I do, because I go crazy at the thought of plunging into an evening of dinner and dancing made between women and women who, if everything seems normal year, on March 8 claiming their femininity. With very little femininity.
I rejoice today that more men than women ... There are those who stay at home, in front of the Playstation, perhaps with friends, without any woman who complains patitine if they eat and drink beer on the couch and those who come prepared to attack, because statistics in hand, this evening a woman around to find the sicuro.Festa the woman's screams, noises, toast "to us women." Or better than that at the end of the evening is left of them, noi.Perché, I admit, there was a time when I celebrated this day. It was the period of the early evening permits after school, when a pizza and a coke with her friends parents could not say we were suddenly no.Noi women: a thin layer of blush, mascara and a bit in a bad 'for Labello highlight inesperte.Quelle lips still nights when there was talk of first love, those who still would have lost his heartbeat just because we had asked to borrow a pen to the task classe.Poi, growing up, the ritual has been lost. Already in high school we were like: "If anything we see in someone's home." It was as if we were to hide, and maybe a bit 'was true. We could not be confused with what came out on March 8, but you could not not celebrate a evening for all noi.Col time me and my many friends, we stopped seeing each other in that special occasion, however, because we spent together every week end.Dei my March 8 also remember the smell of mimosa in the palace garden, which flourished always too early and 8 March there came mai.Sento even its scent, one of my favorite plant. Beautiful, yellow, and above all able to dry out almost instantly, which is good for someone like me who does not have the thumb verde.Da few years, the mimosa is no more: because they break down. She was sick, a bit 'as we always women who flourished before and really did not expect ever to arrive in March the sun light for us sbocciare.Al first beam, all ready. Who's there. With time, however, I learned to aspettare.La mimosa is gone and there's even more than willing to expose themselves too quickly once thought would make me celebrate donna.Oggi my peace of mind and my child still be in memory of those dinners of pizza and cocacola.Festeggio with all of you women who are not more. although none of us would like to scream to everyone that today is International Women's Day I wish you all a wonderful day, and I take this opportunity to remind people to buy a small sprig of mimosa. Because this time, if you look bad, not only because we are women, but because we are women to celebrate.
