I’m poor for the moment. I’m so poor I’m considering selling pigeons I’ve caught off the street… they’ll fetch a mighty sweet price once I dress them in pigeon turbine and jazz pants and teach them to dance.
Being poor has got me thinking. Maybe I should get more work…then I slap myself across the face and tell myself not to be so stupid. There must be a get rich quick scheme that works. It worked for Mark Zukenburg. All he had to do was invent facebook.
Actually I have an invention…I’ve been sitting on this little baby for a while now… it’s called “claymail”… it’s the mail that is emailed to you in clay form…unfired earth. Genius? It just may be. A money-spinner? After I’ve paid a little visit to the Gramean bank…watch this space.
My current tightening of la purse strings has got me thinking about other poor people. Why they’re poor? What are they going to do about it? Are they happy? Do they smell bad? Do they eat popcorn? Do they wear sunscreen? The answers are most likely: born that way, nothing, yes/ sometimes/no, yes, no, no.
Wealth is relative. Compared to, say, Mrs. Hinju Nababi of the slums of Banjabi (made up name and place) I am so friggen wealthy I could very well be queen of Tasmania (actually, I am). Compared to the average income in Australia I AM Mrs. Hinju Nababi. As both me as myself and also as myself as Mrs. Hinju Nababi, we and I are presently unhappy with our/my current state of wealth… or rather my un-wealth, my poor-ririty. I hate having to think: rent or food this week? Rent it is!! (Porridge contains vitamins, right?) Now that may be being a little melodramatic. It’s probably more realistic to say I have a tug of war between whether to spend money on eBay or witchery.
Oh, my accursed eBay addiction. I flick on that screen and the little yellow logo of hope lights up my eyes and says: “EBay: adventure, fashion, fashion risks and adventurous fashion… EBay, where you can dress like a 90’s lawyer or buy 7 pairs of Homeyped shoes for $14.95 simply because it’s a discontinued line”
Perhaps… just maybe, if I were wealthier I wouldn’t want to shop at EITHER ebay OR witchery. I wouldn’t be so fazed by my humble appearance, I would not wish to buy nicer clothes and THUS ERGO I could save a lot of the money.
Perhaps my status anxiety at being poor is making my want to buy things I could easily afford if I were a rich bitch like Lauren Conrad. (Did she actually ever DO anything to become famous?)
Similar to a food drought, where my body desperately clings to every calorie if it knows I’m on a diet…or I see food, or think about food, or I’m told I’m going on a late lunch break, or the kitchen is too far away, or my snacks are out of arms reach…. well my wardrobe is the same. “I’d better buy this top just incase I can never buy a top again. We wouldn’t want me to be topless now would we? Most of the time, and in most places toplessness is illegal, so really, to buy this top is simply abiding by the laws of our conservative Government and prudish society.” I also think it has a little something to do with my status anxiety:
Maybe if I buy this top from country road that is far beyond my budgetary limits I will feel like the person who CAN actually afford to buy this top from country road.
There lies’ the catch 22. The rich do not need to buy things to remind them they are rich, they know they are rich (they know because they ate Wild aniseed duck, flummoxed into submission by a mint and pea mash T.D.F for breakfast). Because they are so rich they can dress like one of my dancing pigeons and still be rich. Whereas the poor people want to feel rich so badly that they start to dress like Janette Howard. I swear. The poorer I get the more likely I am to buy a fake Luis Vuitton from the midget tranny creatively named “Bruce”, behind the community centre in Crows Nest. Damn you Bruce! Damn my status anxiety! And damn you ebay! ….Also damn you Mark Zukenburg for inventing facebook before I could think of it.
So what have I learnt from this most recent stream of consciousness? Get another job…. Get another job and then you could afford to shop at David Jones… but you won’t WANT to shop at David Jones, so you won’t, you’ll shop at St. Vinnie’s… and you’ll look like a pigeon.
Second job = hot pigeon. Simple.
6 comments:
Pigeon "turbin" NOT pigeon turbine!!!! Gosh. Tired. I need to fire my "editor" spellcheck.
Hmmm...from my intense study of Economics in Year 11...I believe it's called Conspicuous Consumption, and from what I can remember it's spending money on goods and services that show that you have the money to buy the goods and services...like poor
Mrs. Hinju Nababi who, once she has earned some naan (it wouldn't be bread, would it?) spends it on a gold necklace to show that she has the money...even though she'd be better off buying more useful items like food, soap, or more naan.
Now I hate to go all James Antonas on you...but...get a 9-5 office job and die a slow painful death...do it now Els...join us...joooiinn ussssss.
Just so you know, not wanting to buy things doesn't make you less poor. So either way you're still poor. Get a job. Move to Adelaide and get a job. Why Adelaide? Same reason why it's so hard to post a comment on this blog: I don't know. I don't have all the answers.
No. Adelaide is not the answer. Adelaide is never the answer, unless the question is 'Where is it safe and cozy?' Answer? Adelaide. Hometown. Family. Security. Safety.
But again, it all depends on what you want out of life, doesn't it?
So the question really should be, 'Els, what do you want out of life?'
Answer: ???
I once knew a flummoxed duck. Your an excellent writer.
This has been my hottest, most controversial blog yet... maybe my blog theme should be how to make it through life on a minimum wage...Yes, I'll become rich and famous and own all the pigeons I want....Hey!
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