On the way to sit down to meditate on my Swiss ballThere are certain things that we cannot refuse to do or simply cannot resist the urge to comply with. In our tweens, it was pop – staying with and hanging out with the ‘in’ crowd. We made horrible choices in our tweens that usually follows in the fashion of that time. For me, it was the advent of hip hop and R’n’B music and coupled with my Asian appearance created a look that would send any celebrity stylists retching in agony. We made mistakes, some worse than others but hopefully mistakes that we could learn from and bring with us to our next stage of life – the teens.
In our teens, it was a case of not saying no: no to drugs, no to sex, no to violence, no to alcohol, no to double decafe babycinos’, no to Dance Dance Revolution Volume 2. We failed to grasp the concept of ‘no’ in our teens. It was a time of pack mentality where the importance of being accepted in a group outweighed the celebration of being an individual. You had to do what the cool people where doing and that was the gospel. Unfortunately, that led to horrible mistakes as experimentation escaped in the science labs and entered real lives. Again, I hope that we all had the opportunity to take something from the mistakes that were made into the next stage of our life – the twenties.
In our twenties, it is a case of saying yes: yes to drugs, yes to sex, yes to violence, yes to alcohol, yes to double shot skim soy lattes’, yes to Dance Dance Revolution on Playstation 2. We finally grasp the concept of saying yes in our twenties. After spending my youth in borderline poverty and denied of all the wonderfully expensive things in life, our twenties embellish us with disposable income and woefully lack access to credit.
Concepts such as travel, holidays, shopping, dinners, lunches and drinks all become ritualised in our twenties. Those concepts are further stretch with the word ‘designer’ in front of them. Names such as Gucci, Vuitton, Prada and Ikea all become regular guests on our credit card statements along with interest repayment, state infringement office and over limit fees.
However, we still make mistakes in our twenties. For me, it is the mistake of over indulgence and the over-ability of saying yes. While shopping the other day, I came across a rather nice looking ash tray. Even though I don’t smoke, I still couldn’t resist the urge to say yes. So I bought an expensive designer ash tray. Was I weak? Yes. Was I over indulgent? Yes. Was it a mistake? Yes.
And now, I find myself fighting the urge to pick up a Yves Saint Laurent cigerette and lighting it with a Cartier lighter.
On the way to toss a salad with my new expensive salad tossersAfter spending the past few months void of any social interaction, deprived of fancy restaurants, restrained from designer shopping and missing out on short getaways to the snows, I have had a lot of time to re-evaluate my life and establish all the things that are non-existence in my empty life and the causes of my vain depression.
Reading an article about the inspiration that is Oprah, I used her techniques to soul search and establish my life goals. Using Oprah's techniques, I have determined what I want in life and the steps I need to achieve them.
Ignoring all of the altruistic and non-materialistic values and aspirations, my list of life goals is whittled down to quite an extensive list and I am proud to say that I have risen to new depths of shallowness.
And now, I present to you my primary life goals:
1. To be invited to the Centurion or Ultima club
2. To fly First Class
3. To have my clothes bespoke from the tailors of Saville Row
4. To sleep in the world's only six star hotel
5. To wine and dine at three Michelin star restaurants
Needless to say, once I have achieved the first goal everything else will fall into place. And there are more shallow goals involving designers and designer lifestyles that will occur on the journey to the life goals. But it is these goals that will drive my life.
I now feel inspired and determined to achieve my life goals because once I achieve them, I will be able to set more outrageously shallow life goals.
On the way home on a slow running trainI don’t think I have ever been this depressed in my life. Events seem to be occurring and impacting on me in the most opportunistic ways. I feel like I keep playing the lottery and the big red ball never seems to roll by but rather, it feels like I am standing on top of a hill and most torturously, I can see the big red ball rolling around but never pass me, thus prolongs thy sickly days.
More realistically, it feels like all my numbers keep popping up the tube in the lottery machine but the last number never seems to be sucked up and thus, missing out on the jackpot. And it is the jackpot that everybody desires. But I can never seem to capture all the winning numbers. How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable the game of lottery is. A cruel game played by fate where all my numbers will never show up.
I feel drained after all my attempts of playing the lottery. I have even scaled things down and unpregnant of my cause, tried my luck and skill with the scratchies. I think I have endure enough slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and it is getting to the point where I no longer feel like playing; the pain of waiting and watching for the last ball to drop is crushing and demeaning for who would bear the whips and scorns of lottery.
But now I have given it up for I am no longer a rogue or peasant slave to it. Out of my weakness and melancholy, I have discovered a far more addictive and less predictive means of gambling.
Share trading.
On the way to sit down to watch HD televisionI think there may be something wrong with me. Ignoring my dry wit, sarcasm and humour, I honestly do believe that there is something foul going on with me. It is hard to describe what is wrong just that there are these idiosyncratic oddities that we all have, especially when it comes to weird and irregular bouts of emotion spasms. They occur when you least expect it and in the most inopportune moments.
I was having lunch the other day in the city with a group of friends when I felt a sudden and terrible urge inside me to cry. It was a longing pain that was felt deeply, reverberating in every sinew and every though just made the urge worse. Just before that moment, I was quite calm and happily enjoying my meal when I spotted a rather young looking man in a suit walk down the street carrying a bright big turquoise paper bag with the silver writing of “Tiffany and Co” sparkling in the mid-afternoon spring light. I don’t know why I wanted to cry and luckily I didn’t – it would have ruined my meal.
My fridge broke down this week and with it, I lost my vest for life. I emotionally mourned the death of a beloved, I thought of the good times and the sad times. I thought of all the occasions where the fridge was the only thing I could find solace and coolness in. It made me deliriously happy. But when it broke down, I couldn’t function – the thought of not having a fridge paralysed me. So as I was clearing out the fridge, I couldn’t help but to shed a tear.
I was watching a repeat episode of The Simpsons, a relatively innocent activity. It was the episode where Homer decides to pretend he is a hobo to entice pity and spare change. But in the scene where Homer comes home and presents to Marge a pair of tear drop diamond earrings, I felt myself becoming short of breath. I felt the emotion being conveyed in the cartoon and in such intensity that I haven’t felt before since Simba’s father was tramped to death in the Lion King. I felt Marge’s emotions vicariously and after that, I was in a mood of quiet desperation.
The quiet desperation is the sort of feeling that a poor child would get in a candy shop or a non-platinum card holders browsing through Hermes or a blind person looking into a mirror.
It is frustrating, depressing and soul destroying.
That is why I find it so weird that I now enjoy watching television as a means of escape. Not any form of television, but High Definition television where all the blemishes, blotches and imperfections are so clearly visible.
On the way to order a double de-café skim soy latteLiving in Sydney, you quickly come to appreciate the amazing weather that bestows this worldly isolated suburban metropolis. The warm sunny days in winter makes it one of the best times to get out and about and enjoy the great outdoors.
Everyday, I sit in my office and gaze out of the window, soaking up the sunlight and looking longingly outside at the people strolling across the bridge or the people having a picnic down below in the park below or people cycling around the block or the old rich guy stopped at the traffic lights in the new Mercedes Benz SLK convertible or the train conductor blowing the whistle on the station platform or the construction workers sitting down doing nothing or the guys who routinely rest with a cigarette against the balcony of this lady’s apartment in the building next door whom we suspect is operating a makeshift brothel and is enjoying very brisk business. Everyday, I wish I was outside enjoying the weather like those people.
Sunlight does strange things to you. I have even started to contemplate what I am going to plant outside my bedroom window this season and have even began to trawl through my backlog of Backyard Blitz to sow some ideas, even going as far to read Better Homes and Garden. I am leaning towards creating a semi-tropical garden – something with ferns, palms and lots of greenery while creating a zenful landscape.
I have also started to read the weekend paper in the day bed in the garden during the mornings, basking in the warm mid-morning sunlight. Hanging up the washing has also become something of a sought after ritual.
But to fully enjoy the weather and the warm sunny days, one must be properly equipped – generous amounts of sun lotion; a broad rimmed hat; and of course, killer sunglasses.
As I was sitting in a café the after a day of hectic furniture shopping, I was sitting down to enjoy my coffee where upon I chanced an unattached glossy. Thumbing through the pages, I stopped all of sudden and broke into a grin. Down at the bottom of the page were my sunglasses. But it was the caption that went with it that captured my attention and the coupled with the sunlight; I felt a warm fuzzy feeling.
“These are Christian Dior. They’re so expensive you’ll die.”
