Combat Boots and Literatura

Congratulate me! I now own a pair of black, knee-high combat BlackNoire boots. No, I don't know when I'm ever going to wear them. They're the kind of Avril Lavigne-esque footwear you'd wear with a pink/black goth-punk outfit, or an extremely short schoolgirl skirt with a white shirt and tiny vest. Alex says they're not age-inappropriate, but I do have a feeling I'm skimming the line somehow. Still, a sale's a sale. And it helped give me a better Sunday than I usually have.

I've also gone on a book-bender and now have two books: Philippa Gregory's The Constant Princess, which is the tale of the great Queen Katherine of Aragon - famously displaced by Anne Boleyn, the most infamous homewrecker of her time. It's probably the prequel to The Other Boleyn Girl, as it's by the same author. I haven't read it yet, I'm just starting on my other acquisition: Down and Dirty Pictures - Miramax, Sundance and the Rise of Independent Film. So far it's pretty interesting (I'm only in Chapter 1!). Will post more excerpts later.

Am not very sure where all this blatant consumerism has led me, and have taken to wondering if it's my way of getting over my latest birthday. The last time I formally celebrated a birthday was when I was thirteen. Formally means guests were invited, I had a cake specially made for my day and my mom made spaghetti and invited the Sumalinog man to come over and scoop ice cream for all of us. I eschewed the notion of all parties since, deeming myself "grown up".

It's ironic how we can't wait to grow up, and when we do, we wish we hadn't. Now that I'm older, I find I want to be twelve again. Have someone make a cake for me, sing a song, invite people. Do the whole spaghetti and lechon thing. It gets lonely being away from my family, and it sucks that my birthday had to fall on a work day. One should never have to work on one's birthday.

Still it was surprisingly lovely, and I got a number of good wishes and greetings, for which I am quite grateful for. The trainers (Ellice) bought me a tiramisu cake, which Darwin wouldn't touch ("I'll never buy cake for anyone again," Ellice grumbled) and we had a nice old time talking about things adults do to one another (gee thanks, Chrizzy). My "kids" sang me a song and we all had ice cream for lunch, so as a whole it made me feel better.

It just reinforced my latest realization that at the end of the day, it's the people who matter who'll be there for you. I also got greetings from around the world, which was really quite touching. It's nice to feel cared about, si?