Life & Sex in the City

originally uploaded by shangz.

There's something definitely wrong to be cooped up in your own room sittting by your laptop watching countless episodes of Sex in the City when all of Paris is at your doorstep . It is a slap on the face to all the poets and writers who found their inspiration in this beautiful while you sit in your own room listening to the conversation of 4 vapid women who has nothing more to talk about their very own sex and love lives.

I guess listening to Carrie Bradshaw ramble in her column in the show, i feel compelled to actually write something in my Paris blog than just post picture and after picture . Afterall , i'm a writer first , then photographer.

The fact is , i'm not sitting in my room because there is nothing to do in Paris, there's lots to do right here in the city of lights , but sadly , everything fabulous require lots of moolah . I think i can finally can sympathise with the malaysians when they come to singapore and find that the currency is totally not in their favour. Euros are the bane of my existence . It's times like these that i'm actually thankful that i'm Singaporean and not any other crummy Asian Country with a weak currency. (Brunei don't count because if Singapore had oil , the singapore dollar would be as strong as the Euro) . I digress , my point is , when a cup of ice grande vanilla latte costs 8 singapore dollars, it makes you think of the poor farmers growing their coffee beans in java and wonder how much of that money actually ends up going into their pocket . It's also times like these you wish you could just go out for kopi or teh-ping . Just uttering "une cafe , si vous plait" wouls set u back 4 singapore dollars.

I'm not dissing paris , i'm lamenting at the cost of living , but i think that is what makes Paris Paris , because it is only after spending a certain amount of money , you get that rush that you're doing something fabulous. Which why , i suppose even the simplest pleasure of getting a simple crepe on the streets would make you happy because while it might be a cheap staple, it's a luxury for poor little me and you feel happy , eating that 4 dollar crepe with only sugar . btw , the cheapest crepe is at St Michel , along Blvd St Germain , next to the Macdonalds, opposite the Sorbonne.

As for the luxury items , you think about it inversely . In the wise words of Becky Bloomwood , foreign currency is not real money . It's like monopoly money . While it's not entire true, when you buy something expensive , you think .. "oh it's only 100 euros !" .. and not like "drats , it's 200 singapore dollars" , you know what i mean ? .. Like when you come across a killer sweater for 25 euros and you think it's a fabulous steal , but in actual fact it costs you 50 singapore dollars, but well .. you don't think about all that when you standing in the fitting room , all you think about is how good you look and with that thought in your head , you walk over to the cashier and hand over your visa , willingly & happily.

It's sounds pretty much delusional , because it doesn't change the fact that you are indeed spening real money and that it's slowly disappearing but you feel good . So what if you're paying less rent , you're only spending more on the things that make you happy and let's just say , i would rather make myself happy . I think with this little tirade , i have officially sealed by status as a shoppaholic, and in Paris it's so easy to be one . A shoppaholic and a alcoholic . A formidable combination , all i need is to pick up smoking and up my caffiene intake and change my name to Pierre and i would have transformed myself into a typical parisian .

Yep , i'm rambling again , and this is what Sex in the City does to you . So while i develop illusions of a endless bank account filled with euros , i'm going to continue my sex in the city marathon .