This is how I spent (spent being the operative word) my Saturday. You will also learn from this account how an impulse buy results from the very smooth words of the devil. And how I am stripped of all my shoe-shopping money for the rest of the year.

Begin by going to a mall. The objective of which was to find nosepads for your boyfriend's Rudy Projects. Personal objective? Buy shoes.

When the first mall turns up on both of you empty, move to another mall. Purchase your sister's requested birthday gift - a pair of black Brazil Havaianas at a specified size of 35/36.

While your boyfriend makes the rounds among the opticals, you make your way to Terranova. Here, purchase 2 glam sweaters. Smile and revel at the great discounted prices.

Offer to treat for dinner at Tia Maria's, to celebrate the raise you got (the raise that is slowly becoming non-existent). On the way there, stop by a CyberMall to canvass through Mp3 players, your supposed Christmas gift to yourself. The best candidate being a 5GB number priced at around 13K. Hold on to that thought, until Christmas bonus time.

Eat a hefty dinner at Tia Maria's. After that sumptuous meal, walk and pass by a computer superstore. Go in, for another round of canvassing. It wouldn't hurt. NOT.

Find that a certain amount of iPods are on a Christmas Promo. Valid until Dec 31 only. And only for cash purchases. The 20GB iPod Photo has gone from around 21K to 18K. Make rash calculations. From the most reasonable one earlier, I just ad 5K and I have 15GB more? Should I buy this now? Now?

There are only 3 left. They used to be eight, the attendant says. Think, think. Next week these might be all gone. Get the box, hold it in your hands. Eyes closed, say "Okay, I'll take it. Now. Before I change my mind." Watch, with only an eye open, as you debit a chunk from your personal savings.

Now I have an iPod. His name is Eliot.
There goes hopes of the Ugg-like ankle high boots.
Oh, and now how do I go Christmas gift shopping? Hmmm. Good question.

It seems this every Monday thing has succumbed to a whenever in a week thing. Never the mind. I have a choice inspired by one of the stresses contributed to us by this holiday season - gift giving. Shall we make a mundane choice to save us from the tortures of the workday?

Would you rather have:

a bad gift
or
no gift at all?

I'm sure everyone has had their share of bad gifts. They probably think that you're still five. Or that your favorite color is periwinkle. Or that you have a thing for inanimate objects whose use cannot be determined besides being a dust collectible. Want to share your bad gift story? Be my guest.

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?

Because anything that could go wrong, has gone wrong.
Because I found out it's also my fave client's (sarcasm) birthday.
And I didn't get to sleep well.
And I am still at work.
And my shoulder hurts.

So I am postponing celebration to Saturday.

And maybe I'll get new shoes.

Saturday. Coming from the Vintage Bazaar, Chips and I resumed the search for his birthday gift for me - a new pair of shades. Earlier, we were at Kenneth Cole, but left undecided (too many beautiful choices). So then we go to Stoked. And here the most wonderful reunion took place, along a rack of bikinis, in the most amusing of circumstances, almost a Lady & the Tramp spaghetti moment:

Front end of the rack.
Slightly disturbed by the activity going on in the back end.
Nevermind, just go on sifting.
I turn my head slightly. Hmmmm.
The profile of this girl looks familiar.
Sift, sift.
We're going to have to overtake each other at some point.
Omigod. I know this woman!
"Vicky."
She looks at me, gawking.
"Aaaaaaaaaa!!!!"
Hug.
Chika.
Let's meet over coffee?
Sure.
Weeee!!!

It turns out that while she was sifting, she was looking at my hands thinking, "the hands of this woman looks mighty familiar." Well, what did you know. After eons of not seeing each other. Reunited over a rack of bikinis.

Oh and the sunglasses? He ended up getting me one of the beautiful Kenneth Coles. I'll post a pic later.

Actually, more like barking like a dog. I've been stuck with this annoying cough for the past 3 days already. As much as I want to go home and rest, there's this big (as in huge) regional presentation coming that we have to prepare for. Aside from that, we are rushing the usual requirements demanded by clients who had the gall to take 2-week vacation leaves in the thick of it all.

Further, when I do get to rest, I end up coughing - continuously, like an old sputtering motorcycle. Net of it all, I don't get to sleep (much).

I am already dreading the overtimes of next week. Hoping to get better over the weekend.

Maybe the vintage bazaar in Rockwell will help.

This survey, it also went on holiday last week. So okay, as we welcome this dreary and rainy Monday, I will let you contemplate on this weather-inspired predicament... just indulge in my story, okay (walang pilosopohan).

If for example, some unfortunate twist of fate, it has been drizzling and raining for the past weeks. You regret not doing your laundry when you should have (and it was still sunny then), because you are running out of clothes. If in any case this unfortunate and desperate choice becomes you, what would you choose to wear:

still-soaked underwear or
dripping wet socks?

Okay people. Make a choice. That means picking just one (I doubt if you'd want to wear both anyway) and not going around the bush and end up not picking any (like how our Clients do it when we're presenting boards). But in case there will be people who will try to weed their way out of this, the condition is that you HAD to wear sock-requiring shoes that day, like trainers or boots. No sandals, mules, pumps or loafers.

Gasp! So what now?

I'll just go for the socks.

I'm not even going to try to chronicle the three-day HK extravaganza. In a nutshell, Disney was fun(tabulous). Shopping was fun (when is shopping not fun anyway). Overworked legs and feet. And meeting up with my sister's ballet friends (now working in Disney) was uber-fun.

The chinese, when in swarms, are scary.

I'll just let the pixies roll.


Guess where we are...


Sister and her ballerino friends... except Mushu.


Parade! Parade!


Can you believe that these green guys... are also these guys...


At the Peak Tram


Mom just blends in huh...