All grown up and nowhere to go

shopaholism and Texas Dolly

Posted on: September 26, 2008

I clearly inherited my shopping habits from my dad, who just flew in from Jakarta bearing fruits. Loads of fruits. He brought in at least 15 mangos, and they’re now sitting snugly in a basket post-washup. The kitchen is filled with the tangy smell. Which makes me wonder how he manages to carry them from the airport, and whether the taxi driver doth protests too much.

The reason why I have breached the topic of shopaholism yet again is because, well, I find myself rather short of those bits of paper with the president’s face. Honestly. Although my salary is not gigantic, it isn’t measly either, yet where oh where have they all gone? I’ve invested a bit in FX of course, and then there’s the air ticket. And then… there’s the shopping.

I guess my current obsession with LBDs is not helping matters.

It’s obvious that, in the future, household expenses will be born by my unfortunate husband, whilst I spend my income on home decoration in the form of… Birkin bags.

Sigh. The future does not look good at all, especially since the only husband potential I have is more likely to spend his time at the Empire Casino hobnobbing with Doyle Brunson (may he age well) and ‘investing’ in roulette than writing the check for the electricity bill.

Speaking of which, it still feels rather surreal that the cbkia manages to snag a picture with the poker master himself, while the only interaction us wannabes in Singapore get is via Texas Dolly references during our bi-weekly MTPs. Two very different worlds, extremely far apart. How odd, how odd.

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