From One Zara Collection To The Next

This weekend, I did things that made me happy. Well actually, it began on Thursday night at a frou frou party at Frangipani. Did I ever mention how a bit of frou frou is good for the soul? Sometimes better than chicken soup. It's nice to go out (in itself, a rare thing for me), dress up (also rare) and be completely silly (not rare) with mates I have not seen in ages. I also fell in love with a man only to discover he is gay (I appear to be desperate and gaydar-less) but I got over it and had a fabulous time. Thank you to Chris and Eddie for the lovely free drinks, though I should have ditched the champers for those lethal sour apple martinis instead.

More frou frou to follow. On Saturday, I dumped ZW in Megakidz and went shopping with Mum. We only did two shops (guess which ones?) but still managed to take hours. In the afternoon, I took my Jordanian/German/Swiss (by birth/nationality/residence) friend from university to hit the shops again. On Sunday, after the gym, it was back to the shops again. You know, the two satanic ones. I even managed to find things I had not seen the day before and proceeded to spend my birthday gift voucher (courtesy of Sharon and Mel) on yet another black halter neck - people have white shirts, I have black halter necks. And no, I do not like white guys.

So, you can see a trend here no? It wasn't until over Sunday lunch that me an my two trusted weekend girlies started dwelling about our lives. Maybe it was the yummy yun tai (braised fatty pork) or maybe it was the gorgeous shade of vermillion (of the pork and the shoes in Zara) but what had been nagging us from the back of our minds, all came out.

Is life to be lived from one Zara collection to the next? True, I love shopping and could do it anytime, any day, any country but I can't help but think as each weekend passes, "Is this it for me?" Is this life as I will always know it? To live from one weekend to another. To whittle precious tme away waiting? Does the buck end here? What will my gravestone say? Will it be sponsored by MNG?

My Mum told me that as soon as I started to walk as a baby, I was ready to conquer the world. When I was 10, I told myself I had to finish my first book by the time I was 12. When I was 18, I told myself it would be SO embarrassing if I did not make my first million by the time I was 30. At 21, I already had names for all my 10 children (all beginning with the letter J).

What happend after that I really do not know. What I do know is that now, at the of 32, I am completely and utterly Lost.

Where the hell am I and where do I go next? Knowing that you went off track is one thing but not knowing whether you should head north, south, east or west next is where it gets pretty scary. How could you not have an inkling of what you want to do with your life or what makes you happy? Or what you suck or are good at for that matter?

Where's the cause to exist for? The meaning?

Obviously I am going to need to strain the brain a bit over this one. I envy people who just somehow know what they are going to do the minute they leave university. Or those who 'fall' into their careers and although bitch about it non stop, manage to find enough good in it or superhuman tenacity to stay on. Or people who are just plain happy working the week and shopping the weekend. Week in, week out.

I am hopelessly dissatisfied with my life as I am living it. I am not unhappy or depressed or anything like that. Just dissatisfied. Where, who, what, why and all that is still beyond me but this just cannot be it. There has to be more.

Maybe ZW and I will move to Seville and grow oranges. I don't know.