On the way to the wine cellarIf you are not young, in love or have a family, then the holiday season does not have much installed for you. All the festivities and activities are centred on being one of or all of those things and it is thoroughly annoying, especially now, when New Year’s Eve celebrations are formulating.
There is a general consensus that you must do something for NYE. It is portrayed in the media with footage of booming crowds enjoying themselves or of young people congregating menacingly enjoying themselves or of families together, enjoying themselves. Parties all seem to have a limit of two tickets per booking or a minimum reservation for two at all the top restaurants. You also see it the magazines with the latest ads for Moet and Chandon proclaiming it is time to “Be faboulous.” Whatever it is, doing anything by yourself just doesn’t happen successfully this time of the year or when you tell people you have no plans, they empathetically reply “You’ll find something.”
But I don’t want to find something. 2005 has been an exhausting year for me and now, I just want to relax and enjoy what is left of it. Many dreams have been realised in the year, many places unseen are now familiar to me, many upheavals and downheavals and now, many shopping trips to Louis Vuitton where I do not walk out empty handed.
So for the next few days, I am going to spend it working out my 2006. The things I want to achieve, the places I want to be and generally working out how I want to live out the year. I am even going to prepare a budget using my new Louis Vuitton organiser.
And if that doesn’t keep me busy until all the fanfare has died down, I have a bottle of chilled sparkling wine with the fabulous amber liquid serendipitously bubbling away in my flute to keep me company and more in the fridge for the rest of the holidays. Who knows, maybe this time next year with my careful budgeting I’ll have the Karl Lagerfeld Dom Perignon 1998 vintage instead.
Have a safe holiday for 2006 promises to be better, more successful and more enjoyable. And I should know because the wine told me so.
On the way to order lots of baked snacksIt is that time of the year that brings the best out of people and at the same time, brings out the worse in people.
It is that time of the year where the incidence of beggars rise exponentially and it is also the time when those volunteers collecting donations become aggressive. My usual tome of "Sorry, I don't have any spare change" simply doesn't cut it anymore even though it is true.
The other day, I was walking to work and some tree hugger asked me a donation to their cause. Of course I said "Sorry, I don't have any spare change" and he replied "Tightarse."
How incredulous! If the cause was to disband Greenpeace or delcare PETA a cult, then I would have gladly contributed. I do not take likely to be called a tightarse. Not one to be insulted, I confronted the tree hugger. I told him something along the lines of "I am not a tight arse" at which point I whipped out my brand new Louis Vuitton wallet and added "If you took credit cards I would have gladly donated."
I then turned around, proceed to the closest store, unzip my Gucci coin holder and bought myself a variety of snacks with my spare change.
Christmas brings out the worse in me.
On the way to cross the street to avoid mobs of unsavouriesThere are too may perversions in the world.
First off, we have the decrepriating fashion sense of the younger generation feed by an explosion of Supre and its male equivalent, Industrie. We also have a pandemic that is fake products wannable consumers latch onto who for someone reason are obvious to recognise the embarrassment they bring. We also have situations where unsterilised vargrants of society pull in more money than me by simply popping dirty children out. We also have Christmas around the corner; soaring oil prices; astronomical property values; people who ignore the laws of other countries and people who are blinded by righteousness who will fight to change those laws and now, race riots.
It is disgusting what is happening in Sydney. I feel sickened by the scenes of rampant chaos and the powerless law enforcers who for someone reason carry weapons yet make the choice not to use them. But more importantly, I feel embarrassed.
Sydney is a world class city, ranking high amongst the elite cities of the world. Sydney has been judged, many times as the favourite destination of travellers and is among the top three as the best city in the world in live in. We even have a shopping district whose price per square ranks along side Champs Elysees, Ginza, Times Square and Causeway Bay. A pristine harbour and foreshore that is envied by all the great cities. And now, all of this is at threat.
It embarrasses me to think that riots are occurring because of race. We all rank equally in Australia. Everyone is afforded the same opportunities and choices as the next person. There is no such thing as a second class citizen.
Unless of course if you are rich, then things are different and it should be this factor that drives any form of rioting. Sydney is an elite city and it should be the elitist culture that we should be rioting against. Even the riots in Paris were based on elitism: where the poor rioted against their own misfortune of unsuccess.
Riots should not be formed on race, rather, we should a East vs. West riot where the Mercedes people fight against second hand cars. Or how the fabulously rich are paying the lowest marginal tax rates vs. hard working high marginal tax payers. Or the vintage champagne crowd running the VB drinkers out of town. Or the new model Rolex crowd vs. the digital watchers. Or the Hermes Birkin people wielding their ten thousand bags against cheap market purchases.
There is only one casualty in all of these perversions: the poor residents of the beach side suburbs who will experience the most rapid fall in property values ever faced in Sydney.
On the way to find a bottle shopMy father works at PMP. They are a publishing, printing and distribution company and as such, I get near daily supplies of magazines, trade journals and other reading material which probably contributes to my amazing general knowledge, especially pop culture.
Anyway, he gets, or rather, steals a whole assortment of stuff. One, which he gets regularly and which I throw out regularly is That’s Life magazine – a cheap $2 rag that talks about peoples’ lives, silly prizes and ridiculously easy puzzles. It is not intellectually simulating or are the people featured mildly arousing, hence, swift toss into the recycling bin. But my father, every week, still brings a copy home.
Being bored with study one day, I went against my gut and thumbed through That’s Life. Something that I never ever do is read the horoscopes. It is a bunch of made up lies and half truths that lure the gullible; and extrapolating that, it applies to all the dribble that comes out psychics too. But, on this particular page, there was a psychic that gave hints on how to buy presents for people based on their birth date.
For me, it was “
This group loves anything luxurious or which indicates they are powerful or successful.” As I read that, the room suddenly went cold, I felt a shiver run down my spine and my skin erupted in goose bumps.
With that in my mind, and still missing a birthday present, after an exam one day, I went to DJS and bought myself not one, but a whole set of wonderfully expensive Royal Doulton crystal champagne flutes.
I am now currently waiting for my champagne to be placed on ice.
On the way to thumbed through DomainMy birthday this year passed with little fanfare. There was no surprise party, lavish soirees, grand dinners or even a get together lunch. I spent my birthday shamefully eating my salad in solitude and nursing a latte between my hands to keep myself warm in a hot day.
An even more depressing thought is that this year marked the first time since the advent of discretionary income that I didn’t buy myself a birthday present. I had nothing to open or to awe over this year. In fact, I don’t even recall how I spent that evening. However, I did get to enjoy myself at THE place in Sydney the day after and was even surprised by a certain person’s unexpected gift.
And following a stressful and extremely busy week at work, I am thoroughly physically and now, mentally and emotionally exhausted. There are too many things going on now and that is probably why I didn’t get a soiree, or a party, or a dinner.
Life is now stressful and I need time to relax. While spending some rare quality time with the television this afternoon, I happened to chance upon a Madonna interview. She was discussing her new album, which I bought, her life, her religion, her children and generally everything about Madonna, I couldn’t help but not stare at her wrist.
Due to the wonders of High Definition, I was able to view, in perfect clarity and glory, my glimmering Cartier hanging off her wrist. Suddenly, the tension, stress and the past week simply Hung Up.
