Over the next couple of weeks I would like to introduce to you some of my favorite bloggers. The best way to do this is to have them write for me. So I asked each and everyone of them to contribute to my blog. Here is my first guest in this series. If you don’t know her yet, let me tell you that there is lots of humor, lots of sarcasm and lots of insights in her posts. Please pay her a visit. Without further ado:
Hi babeses, my name is Emma-Jane, but you can call me EJ. I am a celebrité blogger and burgeoning rap artiste living amongst the glamorous Singapore Expaterati. My blog, Diary of an Expat Somebody, is a where I share my fabulous life with the universe and beyond, charting the choppy waters of expathood. As an awesome mother of two young irritants and a wonderful wife, I somehow manage to juggle family responsibilities (including supervising the help), with an exciting non-stop social calendar, and a grueling self-maintenance health and beauty regime. All this AND writing about it!! I know, it’s incredible. So that’s me!
Momma is a v dear friend of mine from the blogosphere, so when she asked if I would write a guest post for her divine blog, I felt both honoured and compelled to supply her with some of my most superior copy. Not knowing what to write about, I took Froo Froo dog for a walk along Orchard Road, to empty my mind (that part was easy) and allow my huge brain to get busy (that part was difficult).
Then the Froofster, so stylish in her diamanté tutu, came upon a hound of rather more mixed descent than herself, and in the unfortunate position of being unclothed. My first reaction was to try to extricate Froo’s nose from the other dog’s intimate areas, concerned that she might catch some dreadful illness, or worse affliction such as to fall in love which is the worst affliction known to man and beast. Froof seemed so enamored with the mongrel that I calmed myself by means of chanting, and allowed the proceedings to unfold as they might, in spite of my better judgement. Using my third eye, I observed the encounter; this meeting of mismatched beings, this “two worlds colliding”, as you lot in Aus say (RIP MH we still miss you). And then I knew what I must write about. Inspiration comes from the most unlikely sources such as dog’s derrières, does it not, dear readers of dear Momma’s blog?
So there’s this mega zeitgeist thing that all the chattering classes are chit-chattering about, and it is…
The scourge of inequality.
I for one am a mahusiv fan of inequality because without it, I wouldn’t be where I am today: vastly over-edicated, living a glamorous expat life in tropical climes, sharing said glamorous life (as well as my unrivaled expertise) with the masses, and owning a Maserati. It’s also amazebobs for my children because they have opportunities that other less equal people’s children don’t have, and it’s wonderful for any auxiliary staff whom we employ during our long lifetimes (made longer by proactive, preventative, private healthcare), in that they have employment. So it’s a win-win-win, I think we all agree.
BUTTT. Butt, but apparently some people don’t agree. Crazybobs, I know!! Apparently some people say that it’s not ok because the rich are getting richer and the gap between the top 1% and um, all the others, is growing like never before. My response to them is, “Tell that to Dickens, babeses!”
It was abso no biggie then, and I can’t see why it’s such a biggie now.
Yet a biggie it does seem to nonetheless therefore thusly be! So like I read this v baffling New York Times article about it all and something about how things at the top become more “fractal” and stuff. I think it’s humbug jealorosity from the peeps not at the top that quite a few people now can afford to spend $179.4m on a painting, while a whole bajillion bunch of other people can’t. Can we not just be happy for those nice people who’ve worked so hard to have enough cash to spend on art? Do we even want that painting on our wall?? No, babeses, we do not. We want gigantic TVs on the wall so that we can watch Netflix and reality shows. Picasso Schmicasso.
I do have some non-expat friendses back in the UK who are quite unhappy about the election result (why??! Cameron will repeal the ban on fox hunting, do what-not with the Human Rights thingie, and we’ll all wake up the next day, have a cup of tea and it’ll be ok), and it’s these friendses who insist on telling me that inequality is a very bad thing.
So one friend for example – we’ll call her Miserable Marge – she goes on about the cuts in education, the National Health Service (which I think is like BUPA, but with worse hospital food), the criminal justice system, and the arts and all that. Marge says that very wealthy people can basically pay their way through life, for themselves and for their children; but families who are even marginally well-off, with both parents working, or not at all well-off, they’re struggling to stay afloat.
As an enormously empathic person, I feel for these strugglers, I really do. But my wisdom tells me that if they were meant to have money and power in this world, so it would be. Money and power are of course the most important things, as alluded to in this much-debated piece on Upper East Side housewives. (Actually, I won’t put the link in. Is the writer going to thank me for selling more copies of her book??) Maybe all those folk not in the 1% are so busy pursuing silly things like having a worthwhile, meaningful, principled, ethical existence that they’ve overlooked money and power. No wonder that they have neither!
I know what I’d rather have!!! Veuve Click at the beach club with my Expaterati girlies on an average Sunday avo, and plenty of time to create awesome expat rap. So what if my kids experience repeated “transition and loss issues”, bla bla bla?? They can have therapy when they’re older. And they’ll be able to afford it because they’ll speak six languages and run hedge funds.
Asia understands all this, particularly Singapore, where the local aspirations are the five C’s: cash, car, condo, credit card, and country club. Nothing else matters, right? So Miserable Marge and her (frankly Communist) UK cohorts should really take a leaf out of Singapore’s sunny book. Seriously, I despair at this negative (Communist) attitude. It will only wreak havoc on the sufferers’ chi and cost a fortune in Botox in the long run.
Well, babeses, thanks so much for reading my guest post, and huge hearts to Momma for asking me to contribute to her beautiful blog. Before I return to my own site, I also wanted to share with you a new concept in selfies that I have invented: the Master-Selfie. It’s what the Masters would’ve wanted, am I right?? So this is me paying homage to that Picasso painting, via the addition of my fabulous signature hairdo and sunglasses. Imagine how much this version would’ve fetched! Hashtag priceless : )