This was a personally difficult birthday to go through, and I just had to spend that day, and the four days that followed it, at home, since I filed for time off from work. I had the option to socialize, but the provincial commuter’s holiday traffic -infinitely worsened by the new MRT construction- stops me from even considering that. Then, there’s my health to consider. So, I satisfied myself with a few little things, such as:
A few weeks ago, I had a ‘high’ of some sort for a few days, from cleaning my workstation area and room. See, I’m admittedly sloppy, and what I did was weird. Having a new mattress, I think, preceded that. Maybe its part of a physical cleansing I want to go through, which, in large part, is due to my ongoing illness. Anyhow, the literature is sketchy here, but mattresses should be replaced after 5-10 years. I don’t know how long I have had mine, but what I knew was, my mind won’t let me rest until I got a new one.
A front pocket wallet
I noticed my wallet looked worn already shortly before December. Hence, a new one should be a nice, reasonably cheap birthday treat. Like most things I get interested in, web searching lead me to the front pocket wallet, a thinner, less bulky version of the normal men’s wallet; also highly-advised since the bulk of a back-pocket wallet contributes to back pain, etc. A Cubao-wide mall search ensued, and I did get my version of one, which I don’t believe conforms to the standard (which sometimes involves, tada, a money clip), but it is now nested snugly and not as bumpy in the front pocket of my maong shorts.
Shoes: a pair of Jack Purcell’s, and a pair of One Star’s.
The house has a ridiculously long shoe rack, and how many shoes do I actually wear now? Less than 5. On a regular basis? Three. There was a mall sale I dragged myself to, where I went home with two shoe styles I’ve always been curious about: Jack Purcell’s, and One Star’s. I got red sun-washed of the former, and velcro-type gray of the latter. I posted a photo of the loot on Plurk, and a comment came through citing that my choices were retro, classic even. It dawned on me: this is 90s chic, especially the One Star’s, which was the more expensive alternative to Chicks for the local 90s rocker. This is now regarded as retro. Isn’t it enough knowing that I’m really old?
There was also the recent realization that I never have pictures of myself. I’m now somewhat glad to see people tagging me on Facebook, reminding me of what I looked back when I had hair.
Hence, the birthday self-portrait: