2011 Things.

I usually blog about the year ahead – resolutions, wishes, dreams and other girly shit like that – but this time, I thought I’d take a look back at the year past and hope that I learnt something useful*. (*Useful to me, probably completely useless to everyone else)

1. Never get your hair cut on a whim. 

In my unrelenting belief that minuscule things like a hair cut can change your life, I went to my hairdresser and told her words I will never repeat again, “I just want something different”. It’s all fine and dandy when you’re bouncing out of the salon, hair professionally teased and taking cute pictures like the one above. The first time you wash your hair AFTER the salon is the real test. I almost had a nervous breakdown trying to replicate the look and feeling of whimsy I had a mere day before. Alas, it was never to be. I tolerated it for 3 months, mostly tied it up, got it straightened and all is right in my hair world. Moral of the story: Don’t self-inflict bad hair days on yourself, especially when it’s already a given.

 

2. I have a great laugh.

Many years ago, a good friend and I were out and about, cackling away when a random guy said to us, “You girls look so pretty until you laugh”. (What a douche!) Ever since then, I had become very self conscious of my laugh. Ok, I’ll be honest, it’s not so much a “laugh” as it is a cuckoo, outburst of a cackle. There is nothing remotely ladylike about it but it is definitely real. In 2011, I had the luxury of meeting some lovely new non-douchey friends who told me they loved my laugh, that it was infectious and one even graciously kissed me right after I let one out. Brings the laugh confidence back to a girl and now, I’ve embraced it. Ok, almost embraced it.

 

3. Evan Shane

2011, I gained a wonderful godson from a dear friend. He’s got a wonderful disposition, can’t stay in one place for too long and frowns like a dude with serious problems. What’s not to like about that! In case you think I look wonderfully maternal in that photo, you should know I was shitfaced from Prosecco at the time. What a role model!

 

4. Work

That’s pretty much what working in 2011 has looked like for me. Ok, except with pajamas. It’s been a great year of freelancing, working from home – and I’ve enjoyed and appreciated every moment of it. I’ve had the luxury of working with great clients and friends who like my work and refer me to other great people. Every time I tell myself to wind down the freelancing and get back into a studio, I meet more good clients and things keep going from there. 2011 was understanding the value of time for myself and not having to justify it to anyone else.

 

 

Have a great 2012 everyone – may it be less shitty than the year before!

Excuse me, but your biological clock is showing.

Oh, the inevitable has happened even to the most cynical and non-maternal of people. I blame my sister for this – she had her first child about 5 years ago and given how close I am to my sister, I am naturally, close to her kids. Five years of spending time with adorable kids (blood related) will break you down.

Let’s set the back story. I don’t like kids. I’ve never coo-ed at Anne Geddes babies. I don’t make small talk to kids in the elevator. Generally, they’re very small people, there for me to ignore. To me, they add no value to my life or my immediate moments so why even go there? Past the age of 25, I stopped naming my future kids and even in long-term relationships, the topic of “kids” is a big no-no for me. I make it very clear from the get-go that I’m not interested in having kids – they’re a bucketload of permanent responsibility and the idea of breastfeeding is absolutely gross to me. Milk comes out from there! Why!

However, and most unfortunately, nature finds a way. (Yes, I’m quoting Jurassic Park on this one). From the second half of 2011, my hormones have undergone some shifts and changes (all without consulting me, might I add) and all of a sudden there I am. Holding babies. Speaking to them in the elevators. “What a pretty dress! How old are you?”. My brain then tries to hold the words back, chastising my uterus, “What are you doing! Control yourself!”.

Research shows that a woman in her early-30s have only 12% of viable eggs left – eggs I have been steadily killing with copious amounts of alcohol every weekend. My eggs and I are literally in a “use it or lose it” Mexican standoff. The “biological clock” while metaphorical, feels strangely physical. It literally feels like phantom uterus – a tugging at your womb that can’t be just cramps. Stupid uterus. It is a completely involuntary reaction that I have no control over. It also raises a desire to have sex frequently – which I had just attributed to plain ol’ horniness. I feel somewhat gratified knowing this though, may I add.

So what’s a girl to do when the physicality of the situation takes over the mentality? I am aware a ticking biological clock isn’t necessarily the most attractive thing – it’s female equivalent of Flava Flav wearing a big clock around his neck. Are my hormones forcing me out of self-imposed bachelorhood? (Bachelorhood sounds a lot better than “spinsterhood”). Are my hormones basically telling, “Enough is enough, it’s time to grow up and be a woman already”? Do my hormones know something that I don’t? Can hormones emote to begin with?? It wasn’t bad enough to that I have my head and heart in a constant duel, now I have to add hormones to the mix?

And yes, I now have baby names. FML.

Pearl Jam – twenty years later.

Last night, I had the immense pleasure of watching PJ 20 – the retrospective documentary directed by (my golden god), Cameron Crowe. I was hooked from the first 10 seconds (completely biased because I love them so much) but also because I knew this was going to be a look, not just into Pearl Jam’s history, but into the entire Seattle music scene of the late 80′s, early 90′s. I knew it was going to be good from the first mention of “Green River”. And of course, practically half an hour was devoted to Mother Love Bone – the band that kicked it all off for me. The footage of Andrew Wood was amazing to watch – he had such stage presence and I can’t even imagine the band they would have become had he not died.

The best scene of the entire movie was when the MLB and Pearl Jam world collided with footage of them covering Crown of Thorns. It brought goosebumps. “And this is my kinda love, is the kind that moves on, is the kind that leaves me alone”. Gorgeous. Second best scene was all the Vedder climbing footage put together.

Mad props to Cameron Crowe for narrating it beautifully and following a fantastic sequence that let the story unfold beautifully, as though we were all hearing it for the first time. Chris Cornell’s perspective added another great voice to the mix (and also some major eye candy) and greater depth to the Temple of Doom album. I found the Alice in Chains voice missing though, they were another one of my favorite bands at the time and I’m surprised Jerry Cantrell didn’t feature, considering he even cameo-ed in Crowe’s “Jerry Maguire”. Also, thanks to Crowe for not focussing too much on “Jeremy” – which is my least favorite song from the band. One of my favorites would have to be “Black”.

They also finally addressed the issue of their Spinal Tap drummer situation! While I love Matt Cameron (the man is tank for timing and solid beats), I was always more a fan of the Dave Abbruzzese era – I found his drumming very fluid and enjoyed it more.

It was a very real, honest and raw documentary of one of the most hardworking bands that survived a fad (I always hated that word “grunge” and it was great to see that they all hated it too!), survived pop music and most importantly, survived themselves. I felt like a complete teenager in the cinema, and I think everyone else did, because we clapped like it was Sundance or something at the end of the screening.

So, here’s a picture of I got from the Ten Club (has it been 20 years already?) together with part of my cd collection. Now, where’s my Citizen Dick tshirt?

Movies I did not expect to love.

This is a follow-up to the earlier entry “Movies I will not watch again” – I decided to post 5 movies that many people would not traditionally watch more than once, or movies that, based on my personal taste, I did not expect to enjoy and watch repeatedly.

Brokeback Mountain

Lordy, how I love this movie. I have no idea how many times I’ve watched it – definitely more than 10 (I’m giving a really low number so people don’t start giving me shit about how much tv I watch). This story is one of the most tender love stories I’ve ever seen – it’s handled so delicately and carefully. Everything about this was just perfect and probably the role Heath Ledger should have won the Oscar for (not that crap Joker performance. There can only be one Joker! Jack!). Even after all the the times I’ve watched this movie, there are so many questions that I have about their relationship (who loved who first? were they really gay or just in love with each other?). Maybe I should get the book.

 

 

Inglorious Basterds

Let me prefix this by saying I am neither a Brad Pitt nor Quentin Tarantino fan. I don’t get the big whoop about either but hey, I never said I had great taste. This story, however, was genius. I loved the Seinfeld-esque storytelling – multiple story lines seemingly running in different directions, all ending up in the same plot. Christoph Waltz was note-perfect as Hans Landa and Michael Fassbender caught my eye in this film. The boy is too fine. And credit given where credit is due, Brad Pitt was really great as Aldo the Apache – accent, attitude and all. Every time this movie in on, I have to watch it. Love it.

 

 

Conspiracy

Do I have a thing for Nazi movies? I don’t think so but I really loved this movie from the first time I saw it. I’ve watched this at least 15 times now – the performances are stellar and its amazing how a movie, primarily filmed in one room, over a couple of hours can be so gripping. Kenneth Branagh is so unbelievably cold that you try to seek warmth from Stanley Tucci’s character only to be let down by how cold he is as well. This HBO produced movie of the Wannsee Conference truly reveals the brainwashed psychology of the Nazis. I recommend watching this first, then, Inglorious Basterds – just for a little revenge.

 

Remains of the Day

I normally like my movies/tv shows full of violence, action, sex etc (Sons of Anarchy!) so it’s a miracle that I passionately adore this movie. I know I’m not the only one. I’m surprised that I’ve watched this many times over. It’s another classic, careful story that plays out like a lush, red carpet unfurling. Absolutely gorgeous to watch Anthony Hopkins in such a restrained role – in fact all of the characters play such restrained personalities that every time I watch it, I keep hoping for someone to just jump out of character and start screaming around the house. (I just realized this story is also Nazi themed! What the hell is wrong with me?)

 

And the Band Played On

I believe I first watched this movie – either in 1994 or 1995. It was a most eye-opening movie to me at the time (I must have been about 16 or 17) and AIDS was still all quite new in Singapore. I loved the combination of medical details together with the personal stories of the people trying to help bring this disease to light. It’s a sad story (obviously), extremely poignant and a must-watch for anyone.

Movies I will not watch again.

I’m a self-confessed movie obsessed person and once I like a movie, I will watch it over and over again till I’m positively sick of it. However, there are some movies (and these are great movies, internationally acclaimed, award-winning stuff that I cannot bring myself to watch again).

The Deer Hunter

It took me years to get round to watching this movie and once was enough. Completely heart-wrenching, I fell in love with Meryl Streep’s tender youth and Robert De Niro’s relentless friendship (He jumped out of the fricking helicopter to help his friend!). The build-up was fantastic and the breakdown was even more amazing. Watched it once, will never watch it again.

 

 

Monster

Morbidly disturbing. I could barely get through the whole movie but stuck with it for Charlize Theron’s amazing performance. The scene that has always stuck in my head when was she was attacked in the car with acid. Every time I am reminded about this movie, I think about that scene. My groin literally sympathy-hurt while watching it.

 

 

Boys Don’t Cry

This was one of the few movies where I needed about an hour after watching it to recuperate. The other was American History X. While I give props to all the actors performances especially Swank and Sarsgaard – it was the knowing that this was a true story while watching it that made it hit home. Completely devastating and will never watch it again.

 

Black Swan

Basically, crazy bitch does ballet and goes bonkers. I’ve watched its Oscar counterparts several times (The Fighter etc…) but can’t bring myself to watch Black Swan again. I don’t think it’s because of the creepy scenes (like Winona Ryder slashing her own face) but the story line is just so full circle and comes complete that there’s no reason to watch it again. It closed so beautifully that I feel there’s no reason to open it again.

 

The Wrestler

Completely coincidental that another Aronofsky movie is featured here? This movie was heart-breaking from start to finish – storyline wise as well knowing the story behind the scenes – of how Aronofsky received little funding based on the fact that he insisted on having Mickey Rourke, how Axl Rose donated music and even Marisa Tomei’s age (although she look righteously hot). And before I could even contemplate giving this a second watch, Rourke’s beloved Chihuahua dies. Christ, I can’t bring myself to watch this movie again. I tried once and had to stop in the first 15 minutes. Mickey Rourke broke my heart in this one.

 

Pet Sematary

Anyone who knows me well knows not to mention these 2 words to me. This story has freaked me out ever since I read the book and stupidly watched the movie after. I don’t know which freaked me out more – probably the book. I also have no idea why I’m putting this one here because the sight of this poster is causing me to hyperventilate. It’s the movie that has scared me the most (including The Exorcist). All I can think about is Victor Pascow’s red running shorts. Victor Pascow’s red running  shorts. (Which I just Googled because I’m a dumb ass idiot. God, look at those pictures). Serious hyperventilation here.

Why I Date the 20-something Guy.

After years of shameless denial of my age, I am completely fine “admitting” my age of 32. Frankly, it’s not that damn old and I’m still kinda hot.

However, with 32 comes tremendous societal pressure to measure up assets to this age: Husband, child, mortgage. I have none of these items and frankly, I’m damn happy about it. Now, don’t get all antsy, your choices are your choices – don’t begrudge me mine. As I tend to go out with my more time-available single friends, this leads to typical single behaviour – which is clubbing like you’re 25 years old. Nothing wrong with that till you realise most of the men you meet are just that – 25 year olds.

In the beginning, I was shocked and near-repulsed at the idea of dating an exceedingly younger man. (Once you hit 30, anything under 30 is considered “exceedingly younger”). And one brilliant night, I simply thought, “Why the hell not?” And so I did. Between then and now, I’ve dated a mixture of both younger and older (read: 35 years old) men. And here are my meagre observations on why dating a younger guy just simply works out for me.

•  Fun

Sweet and simple – they’re fun. Not to say a 35 year old can’t be fun but it’s usually manufactured, almost forced and let’s face it, anyone in their 30′s is sleepy half the damn time (myself included). They have no qualms being goofs (which I am), they’re not always conscious of their surroundings, they laugh their asses off when I trip (which makes me feel better), they smoke (who needs to worry about lung cancer when you’re 25!) and just generally know how to have more fun. And unfair as this seems, a 30-something trying to act goofy usually comes off as immature.

• No Serious Conversations

On a first date with a 35 year old, it feels like a speed interview to get all the life details out as soon as possible to know what we’re dealing with and it’s usually always about relationships: Relationships with parents (good or bad?), when was the last relationship (when and how did it end?), do they date often now (track record?) and career plans (are they motivated?). It is literally, for me, the most dull 2 hours I can ever imagine spending, cocktails notwithstanding. And I automatically become like that too – once I’m on a date with a 30-something. I become the crazed information-seeking droid, where my brain is working double time to process the content to the ever-present question of “What does it all mean?”. Now, with a 20-something, all you do is Jagerbombs and laugh your ass off at the people sitting around you. Literally. That’s what happens. I don’t ask them about their life story, they don’t ask me mine. And none have ever asked for my age, till I bring it up. They don’t ask me if I like kids (I’m forced to admit I loathe them), if I ever want to get married (*choke*) or how to further my business plans.

• No Pressure

Oh, the pressure of dating a 30-something! It’s not just the 2 people who are involved that put the pressure on – it’s the peripheral people. Once my friends find out I’m dating a 30-something, hope fills their eyes and the common sentence of “Sounds promising!” is uttered. Why? Cos he’s the same age as I am? He could be a total asshole but that’s still “promising” simply because of the age factor. It’s like I have to assume he’s viable lifetime partnership material because we were born in the same decade. The pressure is palpable sometimes and I’m so focused on looking out for the “good signs” that I’m not even enjoying myself. Every move I make, or word I say has to be weighed and measured in case I give the wrong impression and blow it too soon. Who wants to live this this! Now, when you’re dating a 20-something, there’s no pressure – we both know it’s never going to work out and when you already know, what else is there to do but enjoy yourself?

• No Baggage

If you think the baggage women carry around is bad, trust me, man-bags are worse! I find women’s baggage (while more substantial) is usually open and out there. Men’s baggage is always shifty – you know it’s there but it’s dark – like those travel money pouches. You know the kind that fits in your pants and you have to surreptitiously lift it up to take out some cash… that’s male baggage. Most of the time, you have to dig for it and once you find it, you either wish you didn’t or wonder why you went looking for it in the first place. A 30-something would have had at least 2 serious relationships in his life and are almost always ready for the next one. No thank you, Sir… just this martini for me.

• Music

While I’m a child of the 90′s and all the good music from that era, I also love music from today. A shocking amount of 30-something men have no clue that music existed past Tears For Fears and I’m left alone with my enjoyment of today’s musical pleasures. And… this one is a whopping big point for me… no 20-something has ever told me that I watch too much tv. And 30-somethings do. To that, I give them a big “fuck you and fuck off”. Which leads me to the next point…

• No Judgement

The 30-something date will usually pass judgment upon me at some point during the evening. Either it’s about my choice to freelance, my right to watch a lot of tv, etc… There’s the inevitable “Don’t you…?” question. “Don’t you want to return to a full-time job?” “Don’t you ever want to get married?” “Don’t you think you watch too much TV?”. To the 20-something, I’m the coolest person around. I’ve made a big choice for my life and I’m living the 20-something dream.

Of course there are a plethora of points that don’t go in the 20-something’s favour, like money, experience, handling people etc… but I don’t fault them for these things. It comes with the 20-something territory. In the meantime, I just enjoy the ride.

(p.s. The photo of me featured in this post is courtesy of my 20-something youth)

Branding Politics.

Since my last political post was such a success, (thanks to all 3 of you who read it), I’ve decided to take this in a direction that I know about – branding. All my comments are based on my personal opinions (duh) and do not reflect the policies or action of any of the mentioned political parties. </end disclaimer>

So, it’s election time in Singapore and we all know what that means. Our normal, carefully-landscaped towns will be plastered with party logos and faces. Much like this:

Good lord. There’s only so much a designer’s heart can take before I rip off the poster screaming, “No more drop shadow!!” (Dear po-po, please don’t arrest me, I’m not going to remove these posters. It’s just cynical wit) I have no idea why every political party in Singapore have the same damn posters – one with all the faces of their representatives, and another of their logo. And that’s it. In every town, every political party uses the same damn formula. You’d think that with the directive to move into a first world parliament, we’d at least try to look smart about it.

Needless to say, the ruling People’s Action Party goes for the same look at every print run – blurry background of the city/people with a tagline on the front. Thankfully, this time they have dropped the ridiculous 80′s photoshopping of feathered multi-racial faces. Oh, I’m not kidding about the feathering. To their credit, this has been their look and feel for years and they’re running with it. I genuinely wish someone would advise them on how to use their logo properly on a coloured background, without that feathering.

Then, there’s the contesting opposition party in my town, Singapore Democratic Alliance. This is their website.

Talk about a visual rock and a hard place. This website pains me. The complete lack of cohesion between the logo and the look and the feel is unsettling. I’m assuming this is obviously a template, which makes me feel bad for them but at the same time – a plain white blogpress with black fonts would have elevated their brand value 100 times over. This is not a simple case of “is this pretty?” or “would I pay $2 for this product?”. This question you ask yourself is “Do I want them in my government?” A political party is a product like any other – from your first point of contact with them, you need to know what they do, what they believe and if they’re good at it. After that, everything falls into place. The best branding is often the simplest because it gives the individual room to place themselves within your personality. This website makes me want to play World Warcraft or something. Horrendous.

This is a photo of a Worker’s Party team after Nomination Day, 27th April 2011. This is the perfect example of when an brilliantly simple idea transcends the visual appeal. They gave out umbrellas. Whoever thought of that idea should pat themselves on the back. 1. They’re lighter than carrying flags. 2. Your logo (which is imperative for Singapore voting) is ever-present 3. It offers the intangible feeling of protection 4. It was fucking hot, so they made sense.

So far, the party leading the way in political branding has to be Singapore Democratic Party. I’m pretty sure they have a professional designer/advisor working with them. I know this because nobody else would think of doing a favicon for a website. Not only that, they have actually used Facebook tabs to help expand their fan page. They’re also made excellent videos, have teaser lead-ins to all their videos, are consistent with their clothes. Perhaps the one area that they’re missing is response to comments on Facebook. That would definitely elevate their value because people don’t just want personality, they want personal too.

And now it’s time for the juggernaut. When Barack Obama was running for the 2008 election, his team came out with such a beautiful logo. It makes you feel so tender, hopeful and patriotic and I’m not even American! I loved that they employed such cohesive branding tactics – it made their campaign feel so elegant, so put-together and tight. Beyond the printed materials, he even had theme songs. Talk about a well-rounded campaign. Here’s a great article on the development of the 08 logo.

I think a lot of people would feel that the PAP has more money – thus equating more presence but that shouldn’t be the case. It’s the smallest budgets that inspires big ideas. I wish that in the last 5 years, these opposition parties would have incorporated solid design that moves by itself – that people want to use as a car decal, or a t-shirt or put in their storefont. The product is obviously the most important part but so’s the wrapping.

Those One Track Minds.

It’s coming close to Singapore’s General Elections. To many Singaporeans, this means absolutely nothing. I live in a country where I have never voted before in my life. Never. Not once. This would not be surprising if I was 5 years old, but I am 32. I have watched countless other election races take place in the world, and we’ve discussed them – the most exciting of course being the election of Barack Obama as the first man of colour to be President of the United States. Of course what he’s done with that – is a different story. The point is that I’ve never had the opportunity to participate and partake of elections within my own country. And there are many like me as well. Oh don’t be so quick to yell “dictatorship” – you have to watch what you say in Singapore – while we’re not a litigious nation, you can be sued for defamation by the government quicker than double-checking the spelling of “defamation”. It’s this nature of government that has led to many opposition leaders being, either incarcerated or fined a hefty sum (which then, by Singapore law, prevent them for running for election). This was not in 1965 by the way, this was 2008. In protest to rising cost of living, an opposition leader and 18 other people stood in front of our Parliament House in red t-shirts and were arrested for doing so. Arrested for peacefully standing? Arrested for the fashion faux pas of wearing the same clothes? Perhaps arrested for having a point of view? Oh heaven forbid we have independent thought. p.s. 18 people does not a a demonstration make.

I don’t have any fancy (read: boring) political figures, dates or debates to talk about. Instead, I want to talk about my feelings on the whole matter.

I left for Australia in 2004 to get my degree in Communication Design – which at time, was a subject not available in Singapore. I knew, even before I left, that I would return home. Singapore is undoubtedly my home – even though I am a minority. I could only afford to visit home once a year and when I did, it made me miss it more. I missed the affordable cost of living, the high level of safety, the cheap taxis (a ride in Australia to the club would be about AUD40 then!), the food (dear God, I missed the food) and the little things that make Singapore, Singapore. I got my degree and returned home in 2006 – to my family, to my friends, to the plethora of readily available food. Did I mention I missed the food?

That’s when things started to change. In the last 5 years, I’ve watched and felt my country change from a familiar friend to a stranger that I barely recognise. It’s the fastest, slowest change you can imagine feeling. Almost overnight, Electronic Road Pricing systems sprung into place, to prevent road congestion, while I was stuck in jams in raised-price taxis. Suddenly, the faces of Singapore no longer spoke the same Singlish language – I had problems ordering food and drinks in the local dining places. All too soon, I had to let 4 trains (at 2 minute intervals) pass me before I was finally able to physically shove myself into one, to get home for dinner at 8pm. Of course, this hasn’t happened overnight – this has been a growing (literally) problem over the last 5 years – and I hate to break it to you, but 5 years is a very brief time for such major developments in a small nation like Singapore.

I hate what has happened to my country. It doesn’t even feel like my country any more. It feels like a temporary island of wild government experiments to see, perhaps, how many people can fit on one tiny dot before it sinks or how much money you can make per square foot. Strange policies of home ownership and citizenship has been adopted, abandoned, rewritten and reinforced – all over this span of 5 years. And it all, inevitably and obviously, comes down to our singular ruling party system in Singapore. The regime of the People’s Action Party (PAP) has controlled Parliament since 1959. This means no-one else has had a crack at it. I don’t know about you, but this doesn’t feel like democracy to me.

The upcoming election in 2011 might give you the power to exercise your take on democracy. Why might? The government (ruled by the PAP regime) has created Group Representation Constituencies for our housing estates (think of it like Nebraska and Winsconsin). That’s all fine and dandy, till they start redrawing the state lines – to become Nebraska-Wisconsin. So, since there’s now an uber-state, you would be hard-pressed to find an opposition that can take on this space and it goes uncontested, and once again, under the same regime. This is the reason why I have never voted before. I don’t anticipate being able to this election either – so my vote/voice goes unspoken, unnoticed and uncounted.

For everyone else that can vote this election, I sincerely hope that they vote for wisely and be informed. Do not rely on our print media sources – instead, check out the opposition parties and see if there’s any policy that speaks to you. While there may not be much of a presence from them, it’s highly unlikely that you’ve met your governing ministerial team either.

There won’t be an overthrowing of the ruling party anytime soon, so they should really be getting their knickers out of a wad and relax. But there can be the opportunity for healthy debate and questioning in the Parliament – isn’t this the way it should always be? But of course, this is just how I feel.

I’m Holding Out For A Hero.

I’m one pill away from being diagnosed as clinically depressed or exaggeration – either one.

Something’s missing – and I have no idea what it is. Lots of people have things missing in their lives – and it’s not easy to pinpoint what it is. Some people have too much and find it hard to cope – job, family, kids… usually, that’s about it. For me, I have a somewhat, downgraded version of life and I’m beginning to realise we’re not exactly built this way. I think our human selves are made to take on more and adapt and grow. So, your system goes into a state of flux when there’s not enough balls to juggle (“your” system = “my” system – there’s a strong chance this only happens to me, but honestly, I’m not that special).

So, what makes a healthy life? A good balance (almost impossible to achieve) of different elements that focus on self and others? Our culture is indoctrinated to encourage others to add more elements to their lives (“Oh, when are you guys getting married? When are you guys having a kid? Another kid? Dying any time soon?”) – so there’s always going to pressure from all sides. Last Christmas, a family friend shook my hand and in one breath, asked, “Hi! Merry Christmas! When are you getting married?” There’s no appropriate response other than open-mouthed shock (and slight awe).

Here are the elements I have deciphered that could possibly make me happier (or more miserable):

• Work
  Most people define themselves by the type of work they do. As a creative, I’ll admit to loving the sweet rush of coming up with a really great concept, executing it well and finally seeing it in spaces. The cherry on top is when the response to it is positive. Of course, all this comes with blood, sweat, tears and regurgitation. People in “regular” jobs also tend to be impressed easily when you tell them that you work in the creative industry – it seems like a dream job, a pursuit of passion. I think I have come to a crossroad – either I pursue freelancing aggressively (let’s face it, I’ve been working for about 2-3 days a week and watching TV for the rest of the time. I’ll admit it!) or go back to the workforce – to the land of disposable and steady income. I’ve been earning a pittance while freelancing and I sorely miss having my Art Director salary. So, I either start a small business plan or get a job. (I’m giving myself a 50% rate of success)
• Exercise
  It’s amazing that I’m putting this at No.2 – I have never liked exercising and have only been on a treadmill once in my life and spent half the time trying to figure out the buttons. I did a dance class once with a girlfriend and that was actually quite good fun. Other than that, I’ve never joined a gym or done anything vaguely exercisey. However, the inevitability of gravity has caught up with me – and I see no other chance but to incorporate exercise into my life – in one way or another. I think the key is finding what you like to do. I love cycling so I do that quite a bit now. I also love music so I do brisk walking with my giant headphones (I can’t jog, I have the shins of a 70-year old woman). I am now considering adding yoga to this busy regime of mine – bearing in mind that I can’t even touch my toes when I bend. I need stuff like this to be accessible to me, so I’ll need to find somewhere close to where I live to get this done – and of course, doesn’t cost my spine. I am, however, realising the value of movement and hopefully, this realisation carries through. (I’m giving myself a 50% rate of success)
• Hobbies
  I have ignored the unrecognised value of engaging your mind. I have not painted in years (potato-printing with my niece does not count) and I hate that I keep wanting to do and yet am fixed, rooted, in one spot (this by the way, is the story of my life). I live only with intentions. Another activity I sorely miss is drumming. For some reason, I don’t have single photo of me drumming – all I have is the warm memories of how I felt every time I sat behind a kit. Till today, I strongly believe it’s the one thing I was born to do – because my God, it came almost effortlessly. I taught myself to play “Are You Gonna Go My Way” (drummed by the awesome Cindy Blackman) within the first hour of ever sitting at a kit. Bear in mind, that I had no idea what any of the drum parts were called. All I knew was “hi-hats” and “snare”. I can’t remember the second song I played but I remember being stumped by Metallica’s “Nothing Else Matters” for the few days after. Damn you, Ulrich – but thanks to him, all I wanted to do was run on the double bass. And within months, I played Dave Weckl licks and indeed, running on that double bass. I used to hear other drummers stop playing the practise rooms next door, and peep through my door. The last time I drummed was maybe a year ago – when I found a studio near my workplace and I was so unbelievably rusty and paranoid that people were peeping at me. So, do I have to drive to pick all this up again? (I’m giving myself a 50% rate of success)
  
• Family
  Oh, this is a big one. My biological clock has been going off the hook recently – maybe it’s the flurry of peers having babies, maybe it’s PMS, maybe it’s inevitable, maybe it’s bullshit. Generally, I still don’t like babies but I’m at the stage now, where it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Of course, a supportive husband should come with that – I ain’t changing diapers on my own. But I’m still slightly sane enough to know that this is not the hole-filler I’m looking for right now.
• Volunteering
  I strongly believe that there is no such thing as true altruism. You still feel good when you help someone – and that pleasant feeling is of a benefit to you. That is of course, no reason to not do something nice for someone else. I won’t go into any volunteering work I’ve done – but I will accept that I have enjoyed it. The direction I would definitely love to see my helping out in, would be animals (of course). Animal rights would be my strongest rally – so I’d really like to organise my time to doing something with this. I’m fine with cleaning out cages. Twice a year, I round up Dolce’s toys and get some treats together to donate to the less fortunate dogs. Lord knows Dolce has plenty to spare.

 

So, in other words, I have some soul-searching to do. My biggest problem is that I’ll search and then do nothing about it once I realise the probable solutions. I need a motivator! A life coach! Someone like Tony Robbins, only not as tall. I need a hero!

Existential crisis v.2011.

As the brilliant George Michael wrote in his song, “Waiting for that day”:

“Now everybody’s talking about this new decade
Like you say the magic numbers
Then just say goodbye to
The stupid mistakes you made
Oh, my memory serves me far too well.”

2011 doesn’t mean shit. A new year just means you get the opportunity to snowball all the crap from the previous year to a new one – just so you can see how you evolve it. Life is only measured by the big stuff (weddings, life, death) and how often does that happen to you at any given time? All it is, is just a day-to-day shot of doing the same bullshit – OVER AND OVER AGAIN. There was nothing new about 2010 that didn’t happen in 2009. It might have looked a little different but that’s just its outfit. Don’t be fooled.

So, this existential crisis I’ve been having for a while, jumped on my back right into the new year with me. We even kissed each other at midnight. It’s the start of a beautiful friendship. What defines a person? A marriage? Or a happy marriage? How many happily married people do you know? Kids? How many parents do you know long for a weekend of freedom from their kids or a quiet moment? Jobs? How many people do you know love their jobs? What else is there in life? Partying? Hobbies? What the hell else is there in life and how do I get it?

Is it my job situation? Did I make the right decision to stop working for anyone and work from home, for myself, instead? No-one thinks I’m doing this right. They think I should go back into the work force and save freelancing for when I have my elusive children. This choice has been an odd split of conscience for me. On one hand, I’m completely self-satisfied because regardless of what you think, I am in an enviable position. I get to work from the comfort of my home, on my own personal time and without idiots of colleagues. On the other hand, something obviously turns your brain to mush without the constant interaction of clients, colleagues, suppliers. Are we just programmed to work or have I just not found the right formula for me?

Is it the kind of work I do now? Small, personal projects? I did enjoy working on nationwide design and branding campaigns. It’s always nice to open up the national newspaper and see your full page ad. I have to also admit that I like the quiet appreciation I have for the work I do now. It’s making a different to these little people, who genuinely seem to value the work I do for them. It’s very small work but I like feeling like I help them. Of course I miss having a team of design minions that used to do all the work while I came up with the big ideas, then YouTubed for the rest of the day – but do I miss them enough to take this small business further?

Money is also a big thing in my life right now. I used to love having a disposable income – I used to love high-end brands and only took cabs to get around. Now, I walk past Gucci without stopping and only take the train and buses. Yes, I take the bus. I fucking hate the bus. But I take it. Money is good – but at what cost? I had nice bags but also a severe gastric problem that caused me to throw up everyday until my teeth are permanently sensitive (because the enamel wore off).

I haven’t dated in months. My justification is that I am sick of dating morons, dicks and generally people I have nothing in common with or no interest in. Hey, what’s life without rationalisations? Would I want to date? I suppose so – why not? And yet as I keep retreating into myself – how can this possibly happen? I very rarely make eye contact with guys who smile at me now because I am not eager to just be disappointed or be a disappointment. I’m essentially cock-blocking myself.

My life is vastly different from what it was 2 years ago.By choice, by accident, by displacement, by me.

I’m still trying to figure out if “different” is a good thing or a bad thing. Almost everyone I know thinks it a bad thing. How can everyone be wrong?

And just to have a picture, here’s the only picture of me at New Years with my friendly hand-friend. Thumbs up to 2011.