October 25, 2004

My So-Called Boring Life

Currently Listening To :: Last Call :: Kanye West

I read an article the other day that Australian twenty-somethings are settling down earlier, getting married earlier and investing in property earlier. Suddenly everyone wants to grow up. NOW. No longer are we hedonistic twenty-somethings frittering away our paycheques on wine, (wo)men and song, but we've seemingly overnight become sensible young things, with spouses replacing handbags and morals replacing the lack thereof.

Some blame it on the state of the world today. With so much international death and destruction, it's not wonder people are turning to what is stable in their lives, looking to hold onto something that is as tangible as Tupperware. Ah, Tupperware...no longer the domain of the lunching school-child and working, the powerhouse plastic container company has seen a resurgence, it's livelihood symbolised by the growth of so-called "Tupperware Parties", a most social of gatherings where wine is consumed and plastic is perused.

While some take the appearance of any social phenomena as officially on the radar as soon as it appears on the Simpson's, it's even more perplexing when you find out someone you actually know is involved. So there's no prizes for guessing who's friend's girlfriend went to a Tupperware party the other weekend. I nearly choked on my smoked salmon.

Attending a Trend seminar last week, we saw that one of the six key trends to make their way to the forefront of current societal direction was the need to create a safe haven. Starting with the Ten Network's hit show "The Block" and publications such as Better Homes and Gardens, the whole trend has been sealed with a Jamie Jurie smile, manifesting itself in my own workplace with one of the Channel Activation Managers going so far as to build his own children a cubby house that in certain developing countries could house an entire family in considerable comfort. When he came in the other day cursing the ineptness of a cable TV company, one could only hope he wasn't talking about a possible connection leading to his children's playhouse.

Looking introspectively, I think I'm a relatively average sort of guy. While I may have some vices (drinking, clothes, cigars), I don't think that they constitute me as "hip", "fashionable" or even that amorphous of all words, "cool". Factually, I also fit perfectly within the demographic; I'm in my mid-20s, gainfully employed, and have a mortgage to pay. Yet my mindset is nowhere near where I am physically.

Honestly, I don't know what age I feel I am. My sister said to me a while ago that she believes that most men don't really find themselves until they're 30. An age where most people think life is over, my sister thinks the majority of men are only starting to show a complete package, like the proverbial ugly duckling turning into a swan, as opposed to that old marketing term of trying to put lipstick on a pig. While I know of men who earn six figure salaries, sadly their dramatic rise in income doesn't equate with other areas. But it sure buys a lot of lipstick.

They say that as you grow old you get boring. I just think people's interest's change. Priorities sharpen. Time becomes a real factor. I just hope I don't wake up one morning, look at myself and say, "I feel old. Where did all the time go?" Perhaps I'm too old to be doing what I used to do. Perhaps I need to sharpen my priorities, take time seriously, make some changes.

Or perhaps I'm still too young to care. Pass the Tupperware, please.

October 13, 2004

Eau de Givaudan

Currently Listening To :: Ride Wit' You :: Joe ft. G-Unit

What a strange week it's been...and it's only been midweek. You see what I mean?

Biblically speaking, if you take the Sabbath as the start to the week, my week began with no chicken and no ice. While this may seem strange to you, the thought of going to a reputed Malaysian restaurant and there being no Chicken for the Hainanese Chicken Rice, and no ice for the chendol made my blood boil. Now while the company did everything humanely possible to get me from losing it and walking out of the place, the Mee Siam barely made up for it.

Consequently, the next day I felt ill. They must have been able to feel my scowls of "no chicken? What kind of joint are you running here!"

Work hasn't been that great either. My boss politely chewed me out, then our Marketing Operations Manager found out I blew 10 large on a print job that while technically right, looked like the poster-child for a game of "spot the invisible bottle on shelf" in reality.

Telstra has sent me three bills, trying to charge me for a phone line that's been disconnected.

Today, I found a spider in my hair. I think it even spun some web. 'Nuff said.

Here's hoping the rest of the week gets better; I'm sure it will, what with me spending the afternoon creating sensory advantage and getting an education about the origins of per fumum. Although my nasal passages feel raw like I've snorted shredded fibreglass, I did come away with a Blue bottle and some Higher Energy.

Addy having her birthday this Friday will help too; feel free to help her celebrate with drinks on Friday night at Minc Bar (upstairs), and send her messages here. The more the merrier!