on the way to a house party for nye
It is not very often that I blog on location. Well, actually, I have blogged from Thailand, Hong Kong, work and a dirty internet cafe. Anyway, I'm sitting here at a friends house awaiting the countdown to the end of 2004, reflecting, pondering, musing and basically thinking about the past year and the upcoming year. But like any deep thought involving process, I am much too tired to ponder further, rather, I am trying to enjoy the day and the people around me.
But that is not very me. To not critisize, analyze and make fun of is to deny living. Anyway, I was waiting at Granville station today for a lift to the house party when I heard a commotion behind me. There were these two junkies, a girl wearing a fluro green boob tube with black leggings wearing ghastly platforms and a guy, in a 'wife beater' (appropriately named as will see), boardies and thongs. They looked very stoned and the kind of people that you will walk a block around to aviod. Anyway, they were kissing which caught my attention because I'm not very fond of PDA especially between ugly people. Anyway, then something happened, they back away from each other and the girl slapped the guy across the face, which was very audible given that I was on the other side of the station. Anyway, I guess the guy is a supporter of feminism because he slapped her back; hard too. So she starts crying and they start abusing each other with ample uses of "fuck" and "bitch". It was starting to be quite a show, but the moral of the story came when the guy, visually pissed off, stormed across the street to the taxi rank only to have the taxi speed off without a passenger. Dito for the next four taxis with the guy finally hailing one down from the other side of the intersection which was not privvy to their public display of abuse. The girl however, had a much harder time getting a cab. Probably because she looked like a whore, a cheap whore at that which begs the question of how she could of afforded the taxi in the first place. She eventually gave up and went to the train station where upon my lift arrived.
Yes, I did mention the existance of a moral and before I divulge it, happy holidays because now I am smiling when upon I learned of the moral:
if you are going to fight in public at least wearing something decent so people won't avoid you like the plague.
on the way to work
As part of my daily voyage to work, I walk with some trepidation as I pass the newsagent hoping to see something that will attract my attention: a headline, a tabloid scandal or perhaps the next issue of a magazine. I look for anything that will erode the monotony and disappointment that is Cityrail and provide some sensory pleasure. On this particular occasion, a leggy blonde with pouty lips in a barely-there pink bikini grasping a very big stick on the cover of a glossy magazine instantly captivated my depressed attention. It was Paris Hilton on the November issue of Esquire and along with the headline “Queer eye for the serial killer guy” – I was sold.
And like on any other particular day, the delay in my scheduled transportation enabled me valuable minutes to gaze at the cover and endure the seduction that is glossy magazines. Besides the usual fanfare of chicks in bikinis, ok, Paris in bikinis, I was somewhat intrigued in the interview that landed her the coveted front page spread. It is during these rare interviews where the interviewer can disseminate the well known veneer that you start to really understand and appreciate a person. And again, not surprisingly, something Paris said stole my attention for the rest of the day. I started to question it, but the statement holds impenetrable truth and along with the others, I really need to share it with you. It is one of those statements that will soon become idioms and one that I have always believed in and followed yet have not been able to articulate it. The statement:
“I don’t really pay attention to other people. Well, except for what they’re wearing.”
This week also happened to be Christmas. And like other years, it was a disappointment until the very last moments. Taking advantage of a free afternoon off work on Christmas eve, I did what every other sane person would do – I went shopping at the only decent department store in the city – David Jones. And unlike other years, the store was quite well stocked and busy in the haste reorganisation and preparation for the post-Christmas sales. Taking my time to browse the merchandise, I saw across the room on an empty shelf a lone pair of jeans neatly folded and unaccompanied. Glancing upwards, I almost broke into a sprint to retrieve the only pair of Helmut Lang jeans there. Naturally I bought it. The price? Let’s just say I could have taken everyone to dinner again at Longrain….
Without trying to put myself back into severe melancholy after Christmas, I have to say that 2004 has been a very special year for me. So many things have happened that have left a profound influence over me. I started to become accustomed to this emotion that people call happiness and I have so many people to thank for helping me to achieve it. It may not be believable, but everyone has been there to help me. Whether it’d be long conversations, quick calls to say hello, witty emails, obvious rolling-of-the-eye emails, quick lunches or long dinners; it has been a pleasure to experience them all. So before we venture into the start of 2005, I just want to wish everyone a happy new year because for the absolute first time, my words have meaning. The past year has been good for some and not so good for others, but I sincerely hope that everyone will have an enjoyable 2005 and that they are a step closer to achieving their dreams. Because I am.
on the way home from longrain
It feels like I have been a doing a lot of retrospect lately. And by retrospect, I mean just looking back at how things were and how things are. How people and places change and rationalising whether the changes are good or bad or simply indifferent.
But I think the root of this retrospect is the lack of direction, drive and dreams in my life. It feels like I have everything I have set out to get. I blame this on Christmas. It is that season again where people run around getting people stupid presents or hopefully, something the giftee might have wanted. Reading articles about how poor people are struggling to buy their children the latest toys, ipods and clothes in hope that their children don't get ostracize only emphasises the emptiness that I feel. What do I want for Christmas? And more recently, what do I want for my birthday?
Unlike the previous year, I didn’t feel it was necessary to have a wish list; partly because I have everything I needed and because I wanted something no one would have been able to purchase for me.
In retrospect, I said this a while ago: "Now that I've experienced fashionable restaurants - there will be a long list to get through: Longrain, MG, Imperial, Salt, Rockpool, Iceberg, Maccas on George, Est, Tetsuya's and many more. A list I will add to my goals and pass off as another symptom of affluenza. " April 11, 2004
And on Friday, I finally got my belated birthday present. We had dinner at longrain. By we, I mean a few close friends and some excellent food. I can’t begin to describe the food except that the reviews and awards do justify the quality that is longrain. Put it this way; if I wasn’t dining in a five star restaurant, I would of used my hands and cleaned the plates. But more importantly, I was able to experience this with people close to me.
Food to me is everything. I defines who I am and who I want to become. And being able to experience this with people around was an experience in itself. WS probably got annoyed at me on the way home, but there is no other way to put it; I was really happy. For once in my life, happiness was not derived from materiality or the pain and suffering of others. But rather, from being with friends experiencing something that is as good as longrain.
Looking back, I am still happy and want to thank everyone for sharing this experience with me.
on the way to buy some reading material to procrasinate from studying
Its not very often when I'm left standing speechless or not thinking of a cynical comment. But on this occasion, both did happen. As I was going through the newspaper and the trashy tabloids that I bought, I casually threw my newspaper down on the table where upon an evelope was pushed off its resting place.
More mail?
More junk mail?
More snail mail porn?
No. In it held my tickets.
