Firstly I shall thank everyone who greeted me happy birthday. And secondly, I have not succeeded in purchasing shoes. Let me tell you how my post-birthday weekend went:

Saturday.
Chips and I were to go to Rockwell, because they had this weekend sale. The banner says, up to 70% off. I had my hopes up that the shoes I wanted at Zara would be on sale as well. Alas, no. It was displayed there, still at 5,000 Php, and only in a size 9. I dared not ask if they had it in any other size, because Chips said I'll just get myself more depressed. What are these shoes you ask? A pair of brown, suede, Ugg-like (but more stylishly so) mid-calf boots. Because I so regret not buying a pair of these in Hongkong, I felt such a drive to purchase one - even if it borders from impracticality to sheer insanity.

And so I went around the mall, downtrodden, thinking of what other item I could purchase to liven my spirits. The rest of the stores had discounted items, untastefully saled. So last season two years ago. This was the first time, EVER, that I came out of a sale so sad. That not even two scoops of Haagen-Dazs could help.

I wanted to buy shoes. And this was the first time, I think, that Chips was actually supporting this hunt for shoes. How about Nine West? Did you see anything in Bass? Did we go around the whole mall already? Now this, in itself, is a milestone.

In defeat, we leave the mall. We proceeded from the "home of fashionable Manila" as Rockwell's promoters would call it, for the ukay-ukay center called Cubao. Stark, really stark.

BUT - this cheap shopping alternative gave me so much a happy end to my otherwise tearful day. I had found a pair of cream pin-striped pants (low-rise, a definite plus), a crochet shrug in the beautiful color of teal, and an uber-sexy number to which my mom refers to as "culottes" - a pair of short shorts already installed with its matching short-sleeved polo shirt. It's like a short shirt dress, that's not a dress, but shorts. Ah, the joy of a find! All of these well under 500 bucks.

Now all I need is a party to wear that short number to (I can almost see the stilletos and accessories that will go with it).

Sunday.
Blow almost 3,000 bucks treating my family to a Japanese buffet. My wallet lighter than ever, I dismiss any hope of finding (and more importantly, purchasing) my birthday shoes.

I instead spend the day at home, reading and finally finishing, The Name of the Rose. There is something bad about me and names. And monk names I could not determine if I was pronouncing them right in my head didn't help me at all. The plot is so thick, I think too thick for my stressed and distracted imagination. Or was it the language that was thick? I would like to see the movie.

At the end of it all, I find still a sting of regret for the unpurchased shoes. Anyone care to sponsor me a trip back to HK?