Perhaps I have not made it very obvious but I've said this before: I am addicted to boots—even if it is something I know I cannot wear regularly here in the tropics.
Anyway, I finally got my very first Dr. Martens!
Hands down to the coolest, sickest, and most badass shoes I've ever seen.
I love how I can rock the boots with anything. |
I don't remember the last time I wrote something serious. And I think this post will be serious. And long. And unrelatable. And boring.
And... anyway.
Let me start this with our daily scuffle:
I never thought I'd experience a heartbreak far worse than a break up.
I grew up in an era where the concept of Wishlist does not exist. In those days, whenever there is an "exchange gifts" during Christmas parties, the giver carries the burden of gift-giving—one that I carried ever since I started high school.
I was never really a sandal girl. My toes look funny and ugly to be wearing one. But I have always wanted a pair of Birkenstock. They are not exactly attractive but they go well with my manly feet. They are also easy to wear and can go with anything—jeans, shorts, even dresses!
The malls here sell them for more than Php5,000. And each time they go on sale, I would slip one on in hopes that one day I would finally give in and get myself a pair. But every single time, I'd take it off with an expected dismay. Because every single time, it doesn't feel right.
I get it. I pay for the brand and durability. But if I'm paying for something that steep, I would have to pay for comfort as well. At my age, comfort has become my deciding factor for everything. Seats, accommodation, car, clothing, and so on. Apparently, the Birks do not have it. At least, not on the first try.
I settled for different brands that have a similar look to the classic Birkenstock Arizona because they feel much more comfortable. Unfortunately, they didn't last that long.
And then yesterday, strangely enough, I finally own a pair of authentic Birkenstock Arizona sandals. I love them. I've always wanted them. But wearing them for the first time wasn't as magical as it did with my brand new sneakers. (New Balance 574 ftw!) If anything, it was unsurprisingly anticlimactic.
That's Chino, our adopted cat. |
When you become a mom, you take on not just one, not two, not even three, but multiple roles.
As a mom of a teen, toddler, and a baby, I can be a referee, teacher, nurse, storyteller, an entertainer, event planner, a coach, caretaker, driver, repairman. And if I have the whole day, this list can go on forever. And I am not exaggerating.
Of course, the whole world has to know.
Because I feel like a domestic goddess after doing such feat.
And just in case it doesn't happen again.
I don't know if there's a household chore more tedious than folding clothes. I would have seizures just thinking about it. Plus, it requires dexterity and a higher degree of patience to perform such simple task—and unfortunately, I do not possess the latter.
You know what I miss right now? It's waking up early in the morning, then enjoying some freshly-baked pandesal dipped in hot coffee while having a little chit-chat with the family... at the beach.
For almost a week, that's how our mornings were spent during our vacation a few months ago.