Wow, so apparently, now that my blog migration is complete, it seems I’ll be writing a new post every few days. Lucky for you… Nah seriously, I can just feel an entire truckload of issues piling up. Perhaps it’s the end of the quarter. Or maybe I’m just fucking due for a third quarter-life crisis… is that even possible? Oh fuck, that’s right: I’m 33. Guess calling it a quarter-life crisis is far too euphemistic. So fine, third-life crisis. It’s time.
The thing is, I spent a lot of time online the past several days. Yeah I know, aren’t I already online 24/7? True but what I’m trying to say is, I spent many hours reading about other people’s lives. This guy I knew in Shanghai. He’s a writer. He’s getting a book published. His wife is a superstar corpo. They have 2 adorable mutts, and they live in the French Concession in Shanghai. They document their lives with writings and with gorgeous photos. I wish I were them. I wish I had photos to document such a rich and vibrant and luscious life, but I don’t. I take crapass photos and I also look insincere or deformed in my photos. Seriously, you have no idea how many hours I have spent trying to “learn” how to be photogenic. My conclusion? It cannot be learned by me. My face just isn’t shaped right.
Then the other day on twitter, I came across a travel blogger. Not even 30 years old, she has traveled the world four times over. And she had turned her passion into her job. She’s a perpetual observer, learner, traveler. I wish I were her.
Last night, I got a LinkedIn update about someone I knew in Shanghai. She had been a “tai tai” until her boyfriend of eight years left her. Then, she moved to Hong Kong, and now a mere four years later, she is running her very own PR company. Her site has all kinds of crazy pictures of swanky parties, fashion events, celebs. Uber posh. How fucking glamorous and thrilling to run your own successful company and wine/dine with beautiful people at fancy places in HK? I want to be a hipster corpo too! Man, maybe I’ve been watching too much Entourage. I’m just sayin’…
“You can be whatever/whoever you want to be.” Is that really true? Does that really apply? I mean, aren’t some people just destined to live safe, boring lives? Sure, some might argue that John and I up and left for Shanghai back in 2003. We were adventurers. True, but god, that was six years ago. What have I done in the last year that has even moderately impresses myself? or that convinces me that I am alive and not going through the motions? Ugh, it’s so difficult not to sound like a spoiled brat. I know I am surrounded by love but still, I find myself wondering: is there more? These people who trigger my insecurities… certainly, they are happy. How could they not be?
What’s it going to take?