Nothing New Under The Sun

Once in awhile you feel unoriginal. And i'm not just talking about how my name is Tiffany Wong. You feel as though every emotion you've ever had, every situation you've ever been in, every way in which you've existed is a repeat of someone's history. And best case scenario, it's not a total repeat but a spin off. You may be described to have the grace of Audrey Hepburn, the humor of Ellen DeGeneres, the independence of Joan the Arc or the relationship instability of Kim Kardashian, but everything described about you is in terms of other people. Ya feels me? Anyone? You ever hear of that theory that every sound has been produced in this world already by nature? No man made sound is truly original because nature has already created it.

At this point in time, I am no Beethoven's No. 5 Symphony, I am no Michael Jackson's Thriller, I am a mash up of all the influences i've let into my life. And it's a beautiful thing really, to make sense of all the unconventional pairings of the things, situations, people and places that have shaped my life. Although you may never be something completely new, you are still unique.

Whoopsy

Sorry for the neglect blog, I just haven't had enough inspiration or epiphanies lately. And all the good stories I have, I end up sharing them in person and would just end up lame or snooty online. Sigh. My online life is dying. I will try to revive it.

BUT I AM ALIVE, just in case you were worried.

Invisible Chains

If invisible chains could simply be cut off by a pair of invisible scissors, life would be a lot easier.

The Collector

Came across this on one of the blogs i follow, luluandyourmom. I've probably followed her for over a few years now. I came across her blog on a forum once, intrigued by her fashion and become more intrigued by the little bits of her life she did share and her thoughts. Thought this was something special, and it's inspiring me to write more and maybe post a little of old bits i've written before that definitely are not nearly as well written.
the collector

His place was like a museum. There was so much art everywhere. I went upstairs to use the bathroom. More art wrapped up in paper. "Careful not to touch anything," I told myself. Then I tripped on a vacuum cleaner... damn.

I was his object.

In the morning, I woke up next to him; it felt nice to be close. I noticed he put up a new painting. Pretty. I watched him get ready to take a shower; a cue for me to get dressed.

On my way out, he asked me, "How's your life?" to which I responded by looking away. He asked me again, "How's your life?"

"It's fine," I said.

Except it wasn't fine.

"I read your Facebook. The one about the girl in the New York Times. It was funny."

I couldn't remember what he was talking about. He was reading up on me. But I was right here.

"Are those shoes new?"

I wore them on our first date.

"Did you cut your hair?"

Like a month ago.

Collectors are like that. They don't have to interact with their beloved objects all the time. It's just... there. And every now and then they take an interest, but otherwise, there's no upkeep. His life was like a museum. Well curated. But poorly kept.

In An Ideal World

Sometimes I wish that the weather were always warm. And that my fridge would be completely filled up with bacon and milk tea.The dress code norm would be an over sized tee and boy short undies that say something spunky on the tush, like "No entering" or something of that sort. And that I would have a kick ass fanny pack to carry everything so I would always have my hands free to do whatever they'd like, whether it'd be slapping a ho or making it rain. And I would have my own reality show or talk show to speak all the gibberish I normally speak, but the only difference is that i'd actually get paid for it. Is that just too much to ask?

Story Of Our Lives

‎"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned the hard way that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the most of it without knowing whats going to happen next."    - Gilda Radner

Oh Silly Me

So I volunteered at this camp called the National Junior Sports camp for this week. It's a really cool camp because it's a week long camp for kids in wheelchairs. Anyways, today was the last day and it was counselors versus the campers in a game of softball. So I was helping this really cute 10 year old boy named Galen, and while all the campers were boo-ing the counselors, Galen was actually rooting for the counselors! Who roots for the opposing team??? Every time they got a home run, i'd be like "Noooo!!!" and he'd yell "Yay! Go counselors!" When I first heard that, I was super surprised and asked him who he wanted to win, which he replied the counselors. And then I asked him why, and he said it was because "I like the counselors." That totally pulled at my heart strings, super aw right?! Who in the world roots for the other team and not your own just because you like them? Everyone likes to win! Who the heck wants to lose?

But then later on I find out, it wasn't so much he liked the counselors as he liked one specific girl counselor and wanted them to win because of that. T_T Yeah, not so aw anymore. Sigh, so basically lesson learned. Boys are boys at any age and you just can't expect anymore than that.