Feeling like Bloomwood

We've all been there.

You know what I mean. The excitement that wells up your body, the feeling that makes you want to giddily scream, the emotion that I can only describe as intense and urgent infatuation...

With a bag... Or a pair of shoes... Or a really nice top... Or a pair of pretty Havaianas... Or a cool jacket... Or an issue of Marie Claire... Or a bottle of sweet-smelling perfume... Or makeup... Or Keeblers Soft Batch cookies... Or (fill in the blank).

And when you actually pick up that thing that is making your heart beat and make your way to the counter, ignoring the voice in your head that's saying "ibaba mo 'yan! hindi mo kailangan! baon ka na sa utang!," and you hear the ding of the cash register as the sales person takes your hard-earned money or your scratched-from-overuse credit card and you walk out of the shop with a nice paper (or plastic) bag in your hand and you go home, head straight to your room and when you're sure you're all alone, you practically rip the bag open, and for a moment pause to look at this beautiful thing that you can't believe is now absolutely yours and smell its fragrance of brand-newness, your body is just overcome with the feeling of calm and satisfaction.

Men won't ever understand what kind of a high we girls get from shopping. Sometimes I think it's a sickness na nga eh, an addiction. I, personally, have a thing for brand new things. I think I inherited it from my mom. My mom's case is even worse. She buys all these things and she actually forgets what she bought. Christmas is always a nightmare because she stashes so many things in my closet, where I keep my gifts too, and we have a hard time figuring out which is mine and which is hers. She buys generic gifts so if she forgets someone, she just needs to take a peek into my closet. Grocery shopping is always fun with mom because, like me, she just gets whatever she feels like getting. Because of this, we both have to lose weight.

Like Becky, I justify my shopping as long-term investment. If you buy nice black shoes, then you won't have to buy another pair for a few years. If you buy a polo shirt in every color, then you'll have your staple workwear for the week. It might not make sense, but that's how I see it.

So even though I know I should stop, I still enjoy every minute of shopping. I still go around Galleria every once in a while to check out the shops and make a mental list of the things I need to purchase come payday. It's bad but I can't stop.

Hmmm, come to think of it, I do need a new pair of decent shoes soon... Maybe next week.