I hate the Pirates. (Never mind this post.) Especially when they have a weekday afternoon game. Who the hell watches baseball on a Thursday afternoon?? Don't people have to go to work? The worst part is, the game ends right around evening rush hour. How retarded!! So thousands of angry yinzers sit in their cars, trying to squeeze past those baseball-loving skivers, while sitting on 50-yr old bridges with deteriorated supports, praying that we don't make headlines in the evening news. ("Thousands die as bridge collapses into river") I just want to get home dammit. Baseball season has quickly taught me the only proper use of the horn - liberally. There is no reason why it should take an hour to travel 7 effin' miles.
Bah! Aggravating.
6.29.2006
6.26.2006
Materialism
ma·te·ri·al·ism
n.
1. Philosophy. The theory that physical matter is the only reality and that everything, including thought, feeling, mind, and will, can be explained in terms of matter and physical phenomena.
2. The theory or attitude that physical well-being and worldly possessions constitute the greatest good and highest value in life.
3. A great or excessive regard for worldly concerns.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Every day you learn something new. Just when you think you know it all, have seen it all, life throws a new one at you. And sometimes these lessons aren't the kind that can be neatly summed up in sing-songy phrases people teach their children.
At the ripe old age of 25, the shock of friends getting married, buying houses and popping babies is slowly wearing off. It's a rite of passage. We may still be living in a rented apartment without a dishwasher, and the word 'baby' conjures images of a raisin with flailing arms and legs in E's head, but we know we'll be ready for a house, closing cost and mortgage and all, with mini-me's running around and wrecking it, some day.
Last Saturday we visited with some friends at their townhouse; every time we visit, there's always something new, whether it's new wall color and fixtures, a new 17" iMac, or a home theater in the basement. This time, however, we were certainly not expecting to see a black 6-ft grand piano in the middle of the living room. It complemented the charm of the room well, except for the scale of size, which made the house feel a whole lot smaller and us, the hobbits dwelling in it. I mean, the piano was huge. At first I thought somebody had left it in their care for the summer (now that idea seems ludicrous), but they confirmed that it was their newest baby. Apparently, they have been looking for a few months - second-hand, decent condition, budget around... oh, $10,000.
(I could go on a wordy tangent about what I would do with ten grand, but whatev, to each his own. The point is that even I, the crazy piano geek all through school and been playing since I was 4, would think twice about spending that kind of money on a piano. Well okay, so I have a piano too, but a 6-ft grand is a far cry from a Clavinova, and I only spent a fraction of that amount.)
As we sat around sipping Pinot Grigio, E noticed the fridge looked different. Guess what? That's new too - not that there was anything wrong with the old one. The French door stainless steel baby must've cost a pretty penny. We migrated to the basement, where the home theater was now stocked with 10 plush chairs to maximize the 'theater' experience; to make room for the chairs, the $1,500 sleeper sofa must go.
Enter the Green-Eyed Monster. Questions form. Both of them are making very comfortable salaries, but they are still our peers, and I can't fathom how they got ahead so far so quickly. All this.. stuff, and no debt in sight. How do they do it? What aren't we doing right? Everybody knows the post-graduation checklist that goes job/spouse/house/family (or some permutation), but I'm also aware now that I missed the memo about the other checklist, the more subtle one, that goes piano/pad-pimpin'/pool (perhaps?). We don't even own a place yet, so the idea of dropping ten grand on a piano sends my mind reeling.
It's a befuddling emotion: drooling envy, mixed with guilt that I'm equating stuff with happiness and success, dabbled with a little fear that I won't ever have that luxury myself. The house and kids will come in time, I'm fairly certain, but I'm not sure if the piano, pool and German convertible will ever come at all. Or should they matter? Needless to say, this lust could be good and bad - good that it fans my motivation to work harder in the name of a better life, bad that it could only lead me down a path of hollow and insatiable greed.
And the quarter-life crisis rages on...
n.
1. Philosophy. The theory that physical matter is the only reality and that everything, including thought, feeling, mind, and will, can be explained in terms of matter and physical phenomena.
2. The theory or attitude that physical well-being and worldly possessions constitute the greatest good and highest value in life.
3. A great or excessive regard for worldly concerns.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Every day you learn something new. Just when you think you know it all, have seen it all, life throws a new one at you. And sometimes these lessons aren't the kind that can be neatly summed up in sing-songy phrases people teach their children.
At the ripe old age of 25, the shock of friends getting married, buying houses and popping babies is slowly wearing off. It's a rite of passage. We may still be living in a rented apartment without a dishwasher, and the word 'baby' conjures images of a raisin with flailing arms and legs in E's head, but we know we'll be ready for a house, closing cost and mortgage and all, with mini-me's running around and wrecking it, some day.
Last Saturday we visited with some friends at their townhouse; every time we visit, there's always something new, whether it's new wall color and fixtures, a new 17" iMac, or a home theater in the basement. This time, however, we were certainly not expecting to see a black 6-ft grand piano in the middle of the living room. It complemented the charm of the room well, except for the scale of size, which made the house feel a whole lot smaller and us, the hobbits dwelling in it. I mean, the piano was huge. At first I thought somebody had left it in their care for the summer (now that idea seems ludicrous), but they confirmed that it was their newest baby. Apparently, they have been looking for a few months - second-hand, decent condition, budget around... oh, $10,000.
(I could go on a wordy tangent about what I would do with ten grand, but whatev, to each his own. The point is that even I, the crazy piano geek all through school and been playing since I was 4, would think twice about spending that kind of money on a piano. Well okay, so I have a piano too, but a 6-ft grand is a far cry from a Clavinova, and I only spent a fraction of that amount.)
As we sat around sipping Pinot Grigio, E noticed the fridge looked different. Guess what? That's new too - not that there was anything wrong with the old one. The French door stainless steel baby must've cost a pretty penny. We migrated to the basement, where the home theater was now stocked with 10 plush chairs to maximize the 'theater' experience; to make room for the chairs, the $1,500 sleeper sofa must go.
Enter the Green-Eyed Monster. Questions form. Both of them are making very comfortable salaries, but they are still our peers, and I can't fathom how they got ahead so far so quickly. All this.. stuff, and no debt in sight. How do they do it? What aren't we doing right? Everybody knows the post-graduation checklist that goes job/spouse/house/family (or some permutation), but I'm also aware now that I missed the memo about the other checklist, the more subtle one, that goes piano/pad-pimpin'/pool (perhaps?). We don't even own a place yet, so the idea of dropping ten grand on a piano sends my mind reeling.
It's a befuddling emotion: drooling envy, mixed with guilt that I'm equating stuff with happiness and success, dabbled with a little fear that I won't ever have that luxury myself. The house and kids will come in time, I'm fairly certain, but I'm not sure if the piano, pool and German convertible will ever come at all. Or should they matter? Needless to say, this lust could be good and bad - good that it fans my motivation to work harder in the name of a better life, bad that it could only lead me down a path of hollow and insatiable greed.
And the quarter-life crisis rages on...
6.22.2006
Homecoming
Okay, so much for Carnival Part 3. Suffice it to say that a good time was had by all.
Just came back from Singapore - it was so very good to be home. I can't imagine I haven't been there in over 2 years. My old bedroom was the same way I left it, cluttered with memories from my young teenage years. Same glistening blue pool, same kid practising the drums every evening, same busy kitchen that keeps churning an endless supply of my favorite foods. New maid, new TV (brand spankin' new, arrived the day before we did... 42" plasma screen). Parents looked older. The neighbors got new plants for their rooftop garden; it looked like a jungle. Despite the heat and humidity, I hadn't felt so refreshed in a long time. There's no place like home indeed.
We hit the typical tourist spots - Esplanade, Jurong Bird Park, East Coast Park, Orchard Road, Botanic Garden... No Sentosa this time, cos honestly I was a little sick of it. The in-laws were impressed, but they got a migraine weaving through the suffocating weekend crowds in City Hall. They probably haven't been anywhere that urban for a very long time. E and I revisited Max Brenner's Chocolate Bar with them, and tagged along for the river boat cruise downtown.
Spent four days in Hong Kong and one in Shenzhen - regrettably, we stayed in Kowloon this time instead of Causeway Bay, though we made a point of taking the subway there often enough. The hotel in Shenzhen was uber cool. Our room had a spa bath with a glass window that looked out into the city, which was lit up and pretty at night. It was a walking distance from shopping in Luo Wu and a slew of massage parlors. After an evening of shopping, E and I headed to the least sketchy one and each got a 90 min full-body massage for USD15 total. Sweet deal.
The only drawback of all this jetting around was that we were doing it with E's parents, a choice usually reserved for the masochistic. There were moments where my hand felt the impulse to fly across cheeks, or where I just needed to scream, but I had foreseen this a few months ago and cleverly suggested that they take the Australia leg of their trip early, leaving E and I peace and calm for a 8 full days after Hong Kong. Sanity saved, crisis averted... and we actually had real fun in those remaining days.
Met up with Glenn for lunch at Kuishin Bo, an interesting concept for great Japanese food. He's the best guy friend a girl could ever ask for, and I'm lucky to have had him for 12 years. Talked about the past, present and future, looked at pictures, then joined up with E (who was sweet to give us private time) at the arcade. I nearly shed a tear of joy when the two boys played a shoot-em-up together.
On another day, we went to Secret Garden with Del and caught up over tiramisu and a latte. It was fascinating to hear who's doing what these days: the stewardess, the scholar, the singer, the straitjacketed. Then she took E and I out for a giant (like, 24oz) mango margarita at Cafe Iguana in Clarke Quay.
I ate so much food on that trip, E had taken to calling me "Chewie", although he vowed to find a more apt female Wookie name. Boy did I pack the pudge... :( I swore to go on a Cheerios diet when I got back. Not holding up that promise too well, but I'm a lot less crazy about food now. I miss home, but I know it's just the withdrawal symptoms kicking in and that it'll get better with time.
Went back to work the day after we returned - couldn't ask for too much after a paid vacation. I was glad to know that I still had my job, and that everyone was actually really excited to see me back. I must have been asked a million times how my trip was, and made a million promises to show pictures. A co-worker had also just returned from a week-long trip to the Outer Banks; he caught 104 lbs of tuna while deep sea fishing, and we agreed to trade my fancy green tea from China for a few fresh tuna steaks from North Carolina. Tea for tuna.
Life is slowly going back to normal. Summer in the 'burgh, movies in the park, good books and Italian ice.
Just came back from Singapore - it was so very good to be home. I can't imagine I haven't been there in over 2 years. My old bedroom was the same way I left it, cluttered with memories from my young teenage years. Same glistening blue pool, same kid practising the drums every evening, same busy kitchen that keeps churning an endless supply of my favorite foods. New maid, new TV (brand spankin' new, arrived the day before we did... 42" plasma screen). Parents looked older. The neighbors got new plants for their rooftop garden; it looked like a jungle. Despite the heat and humidity, I hadn't felt so refreshed in a long time. There's no place like home indeed.
We hit the typical tourist spots - Esplanade, Jurong Bird Park, East Coast Park, Orchard Road, Botanic Garden... No Sentosa this time, cos honestly I was a little sick of it. The in-laws were impressed, but they got a migraine weaving through the suffocating weekend crowds in City Hall. They probably haven't been anywhere that urban for a very long time. E and I revisited Max Brenner's Chocolate Bar with them, and tagged along for the river boat cruise downtown.
Spent four days in Hong Kong and one in Shenzhen - regrettably, we stayed in Kowloon this time instead of Causeway Bay, though we made a point of taking the subway there often enough. The hotel in Shenzhen was uber cool. Our room had a spa bath with a glass window that looked out into the city, which was lit up and pretty at night. It was a walking distance from shopping in Luo Wu and a slew of massage parlors. After an evening of shopping, E and I headed to the least sketchy one and each got a 90 min full-body massage for USD15 total. Sweet deal.
The only drawback of all this jetting around was that we were doing it with E's parents, a choice usually reserved for the masochistic. There were moments where my hand felt the impulse to fly across cheeks, or where I just needed to scream, but I had foreseen this a few months ago and cleverly suggested that they take the Australia leg of their trip early, leaving E and I peace and calm for a 8 full days after Hong Kong. Sanity saved, crisis averted... and we actually had real fun in those remaining days.
Met up with Glenn for lunch at Kuishin Bo, an interesting concept for great Japanese food. He's the best guy friend a girl could ever ask for, and I'm lucky to have had him for 12 years. Talked about the past, present and future, looked at pictures, then joined up with E (who was sweet to give us private time) at the arcade. I nearly shed a tear of joy when the two boys played a shoot-em-up together.
On another day, we went to Secret Garden with Del and caught up over tiramisu and a latte. It was fascinating to hear who's doing what these days: the stewardess, the scholar, the singer, the straitjacketed. Then she took E and I out for a giant (like, 24oz) mango margarita at Cafe Iguana in Clarke Quay.
I ate so much food on that trip, E had taken to calling me "Chewie", although he vowed to find a more apt female Wookie name. Boy did I pack the pudge... :( I swore to go on a Cheerios diet when I got back. Not holding up that promise too well, but I'm a lot less crazy about food now. I miss home, but I know it's just the withdrawal symptoms kicking in and that it'll get better with time.
Went back to work the day after we returned - couldn't ask for too much after a paid vacation. I was glad to know that I still had my job, and that everyone was actually really excited to see me back. I must have been asked a million times how my trip was, and made a million promises to show pictures. A co-worker had also just returned from a week-long trip to the Outer Banks; he caught 104 lbs of tuna while deep sea fishing, and we agreed to trade my fancy green tea from China for a few fresh tuna steaks from North Carolina. Tea for tuna.
Life is slowly going back to normal. Summer in the 'burgh, movies in the park, good books and Italian ice.
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