You don't buy a Mercedes, if you can't maintain a Mercedes

Ordinary Guy knows just how to push my buttons. In an ordinary world, he would be one of my least favourite people for that very reason - except, I haven't been living in an ordinary world as of late.

Today I made a comment, while patting Jem (the new car) affectionately on the dash, about how that's my goal - to one day own something as beautiful as him. Ordinary Guy latched onto the words like a pit-bull with a kitten, and immediately asked me (and I'm paraphrasing a bit here), if I'm that materialistic and if my happiness is linked to something as profane as a car. 

Yes, I would certainly enjoy driving a car like that - in fact, I do enjoy driving that car - and I would definitely enjoy owning it...but my statement was more complex than simply that. To me, that car represents everything that my parents have achieved in their life: they began with nothing, and now they have everything they ever wanted. It's a symbol. A symbol of achieving the sort of life that you're content to live. And honestly, I don't think there's anything wrong in aspiring towards beautiful things. Beautiful things please me - I am an artist after all - but not owning them doesn't sadden me either. My happiness is linked in direct proportion to the people and experiences in my life. Anybody who knows me, knows that it's not very difficult to make me happy.  For me, life isn't about where I'm at, it's about who I'm with - the journey is more important than the destination, and the people you travel with are the ones who make it memorable. And those memories last longer than things, and that I treasure more that anything in the world. 

Simply put: you don't buy a Mercedes, if you can't maintain a Mercedes. I want to be able to have that option. Whether I invoke it or not, is another story altogether.

P.s Ordinary Guy got me bubble wrap! I FEEL LIKE A KID AGAIN! <insert larger than life grin here>.