Goddess, I Am.

I have to confess. I have never been to Club Ultima. Well, at least, until last Saturday when The Sister and I attended the launching of Cebu Tropical Beauty 2010 (where two of Innuendo’s models are contestants) AND when I got my hair done today. Hard to believe, I know, considering it’s probably the most impressive of all the city’s steel buildings, but the place and everything it has to offer have never been appealing to me.

After a quick look-see, though, I must admit that the place has a pretty cool concept. The attractions could be better, though. I mean, seriously, The Edge Coaster? The Sky Walk Extreme? Yawnfest. I say, put in a turbo drop, or a kick-ass roller coaster! Cebu could use something cool like that. But hey, it looked like a lot of things were still in the works at Club Ultima, so I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

These are just my first impressions. Methinks we’ll try the day spa next.

Oh, and do vote for our girls. First, you have to LIKE the Cebu Tropical Beauty 2010 fanpage on Facebook HERE.

Then, you can either vote for MHON (number 5):

Or, Dayniel (number 12):

In fact, why not vote for BOTH while you’re at it? Gorgeous, nubile, young things, aren’t they?

My hair and I, we don’t get along. I try to change hairstyles every year or so because otherwise, I just look frightfully BLAH. I wish I could do a Chin and chop off my locks, but my face is so plump and square, I’d probably just end up looking like a cua pao. You know, the Chinese bread thing that they make siopao out of.

But I digress. I’ve been meaning to go from curly to straight again for the past few weeks, but have never found the time to do so. Then I heard about the Tower Salon at Club Ultima offering hair rebonding for P1,000 as one of their promotional items. And, well, let’s just say I found the time, alright! Tee hee.

This was what I looked like yesterday (Thursday) evening at my Grandpa’s birthday dinner with stubborn, stringy hair:

The clogs. I didn’t break my legs, thank God!

This is what I look like at this very moment:

Like a kid.

I took the hair reinvention further by getting bangs. I blame boredom and Lea Michele.

A couple of weeks ago, The Husband rescued a little kitten from the street. The poor thing was abandoned by its mommy, and it was just lying on the gutter, dehydrated and dying. When he came home with the kitten wrapped up in his t-shirt, I nearly cried. She was so small and skinny – a lot like somebody who had way too much Lipofuze – and I was so afraid that we wouldn’t be able to save her.

Like a man possessed, The Husband fed it milk and tuna and cat food. A couple of days later, the little kitten completely took over the house. I named her Cornelia Sulla, after one of my favorite Roman dictators, Lucius Cornelius Sulla. It seemed only appropriate. ‘Princess’ has since been attached to her name because that’s what she is, a princess.

Meet Princess Cornelia. Isn’t she a pretty little thing?

She’s now about 150% bigger than she was when The Husband rescued her. She eats a lot, but she’s tired of fish now and is going through a liver pate phase. She also came completely toilet trained from day one. The Husband got her a litter box, and nobody had to teach her; she just figured it out. We have since moved the litter box to the spare bathroom, and it did not put a dent on her routine at all. She’s a smart little princess, she is.

She is, however, becoming a tad too feral these days. She’s been biting and clawing at us every chance she gets, and that is not good at all. We’re hoping she’ll grow out of it eventually. For now, we’re trying to be consistent with the discipline and distracting her with toys. Her favorite is a hollowed-out egg that The Husband made for her. The Egg even has a little face, which is probably why she likes it so much.

I’ve been meaning to post photos of her for ages, but I could never get her to sit still long enough for a photograph. But she photographs nicely, yes?

UPDATE: The Cat grew balls. So as it turns out, Princess Cornelia is actually Prince Cornelius. Said balls have since been neutered.

(Title quoted from Meream’s comment.)

After promising myself to stop shoe-shopping (okay, I didn’t really promise, but still), I found myself – surprise, surprise! – shoe-shopping! I know, I know. My self-control is shot to shit. But then, how could I possibly resist these?

They’re the platform clogs of my dreams: studded, brown, and so hideous, they’re actually adorable. I was a bit hesitant to get them at first because I wasn’t sure about the height, but when I tried them on, they were surprisingly comfortable. They do not feel weird at all!

But the best part is I got them practically next to nothing. That’s one of the perks of having a store in Fashion Avenue – I automatically get a 20% discount from the neighbors!

I’m quite nervous about wearing them for the first time, though. They’re comfortable enough to run in, but still scary enough to give me horrifying images of myself falling flat on my face. I’m just going to slowly ease my flats-wearing self back into wearing high heels, starting with these babies. Yes, that sounds like a plan.

Now, these shoes came in a big-assed shopping bag, and I was absolutely terrified to come home and face The Husband with yet another shoebox to add to the pile. So I got him a couple of really cool men’s polo shirts, and I haven’t heard a peep out of him about the shoes. Tee hee. Who says I’m a bad wife?

But really, I think this time, I really will stop shoe-shopping – or any kind of shopping, for that matter! – for a while. I’m off to Manila at the end of November with The Bestie and The Sister, and I’m determined to do some serious shopping then. So from now on I’m going to try my darnedest not to spend my hard-earned blogging money so I can save up for the Manila shopping trip. That is a promise!

From the time I started working six years ago until I left for Thailand in 2007, I’ve been spending my paychecks on shoes – lots and lots of shoes. Back then I had a “religious commitment to stilettos” (or so my old Friendster profile says), and I had sky-high heels in every color imaginable. Never mind that I was broke half the time – I had to have my shoes.

Then I moved to Thailand and had to leave almost everything behind. It was a good idea, too, because I would’ve had no use for them at all between chasing after the Bus 356 and the endless walking I had to do. Soon enough, I was weaned off my shoe lust. I only ever bought sensible flats from then on, and only when I needed a pair. To this day, I still can’t wear high heels for too long (which makes me a bit sad because I really wanna get me some platform clogs).

I never saw it coming, but my shoe lust somehow came a’creaping back into my life without me knowing. Right now, I seem to be amassing a good number of boots and brogues. Case in point, I have been buying a pair of Oxfords a week from Ichigo Shoes since the end of August.

This is NOT good for somebody who hardly ever leaves the house. But oh, I am crazy about these “beautifeel shoes!” (They’re beautiful and they feel good; clever, huh?) I can’t get enough, and it’s worrying.

I am now lusting over this gorgeous pair of booties from Schu, too, which is just insane because they’re much too overpriced to be allowed. I now have to physically restrain myself from venturing to that part of Ayala. It’s ridiculous!

I should put myself on a shoe shopping ban. Really, i should! I have goals, dammit! But after just this one pair of platform boots from Soule Phenomenon, perhaps?

I DIE!

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