Sans

MEMORY CARD ERROR - CANNOT READ

I circled two blocks in a figure eight (or an infinite?) pattern for twenty minutes instead of taking the card down to the camera store, too scared to have a professional tell me that my memories were well and truly gone. I felt like a new card was no consolation and that it was just a waste of time and paper to fill out a warranty form for something invaluable.

So the remaining days of my trip to New York are in the drafts section of my blog, and it will remain there to gather cyber-dust and to be forgotten. I don't really feel like back-tracking anyway - the moment has come and gone, and I've lost my faith in memory.

I've started packing my things, getting ready to move into a cozy, ground floor studio, set back from the lively street that I am on now. The fact that it's too small to house guests doesn't really bother me, because I know I operate best on a one-on-one basis. Or a one-on-none.

The windows are boarded with a plastic white sheet and the floor is of a faux-wood material. I was told that the white screens were installed to ensure my privacy from the prying eyes of other tenants and a dull red brick wall, but all I see is a flimsy security device that is begging to be tested.

The process of moving is nothing new to me, but this time I'm trying to change by purging myself of what I now see as unnecessary baggage. I'm throwing away fancy twenty-first birthday invitations. I'm throwing away receipts of presents that I'd purchased with effort and thought. I'm throwing away pens that no longer work. I'm throwing away my silky, white shirt.

It doesn't fit like it used to, anyway.

Just So You Know

I write this as Mariah is telling me repeatedly that we belong together. It's still my current, guilty pleasure, and now that I've had a few months to accept the fact that I really, really like this song, I am comfortable to publicly confess my love. So there it is.

I just thought it would be better that you hear it from my blog, rather than a third party.

Home, Sick

I've been sick for the past few days with a minor cold/cough. It all started two days ago when my parents and I hopped on a hop-on, hop-off tour around New York City. You know those double-decker tourist buses with an open top? Well, we happened to hop on board the minute it began to rain. I felt betrayed by Mr G, the local weatherman, who had been pretty accurate up until that moment. Light snow my ass.

Being the stubborn bastard that I am I stuck with the tour and wore a FDNY hat so that I wouldn't get so wet; and so that I could look the tourist part - complete with my I<3NY shirt and camera.

So for two days I was bed ridden, reduced to watching TV, which progressively got better as the night turned into early morning - double episodes of shows such as That 70's Show, Will and Grace, Frasier and South Park on non-cable TV. I was in sitcom heaven.

And of course this led me to the arms of my darling Pizza. Keeping in mind that American sizes are fucking ridiculous, I emphasised the word 'medium' in my order. What they gave me was something that took up as much space as a spare tyre, only a lot more tasty. Note: when ordering here, list EVERY topping that you want, because apparently a 'super supreme' here is just cheese if you don't specify the ingredients.

But when all was consumed and the infomercials started to run, I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about home, and my room and people and stuff and it kept me awake for too long. I wanted to call someone to see how things were, what's been happening, but I already knew what they'd say. Still I wanted to hear it repeated for reassurance, for affirmation that what I believe and know to be true, is true.

So, with my full recovery I celebrated by dedicating Today as a salute to indulgence:

* TV
* Lots of Coffee
* Dinner out at Times Square
* New CD's
* New books
* New camera
* Dessert with every meal
* Cabs instead of walking/subway
* Generous tips

And if you were here with me, it would have been perfect.

The Fat Cat

We dined around Chelsea last night in a gay Italian restaurant, surrounded by gay couples and served by gay waiters. It was quite funny because the only woman there happened to be beautiful and dining alone. So far, from my experiences, New York food is definitely better than many other places I've been to - even a humble pizza slice from their smallest joint is terrific.

Greenwich Village is very very cool. We passed through lots of pubs and clubs, most notably the Blue Note which is the perennial jazz club in NY (or is it the Half Note? I can never remember). We ended up in a place nearby called The Fat Cat - billiards, ping-pong, chess, Scrabble and live jazz all in an intimate basement.

On our way home we passed through Washington Park. Apparently there is an annual gathering here to celebrate weed. The park is fenced off and people are legally allowed to smoke as much as they want, as long as they stay within the park confines. After I heard this story we walked through the arch and our party was greeted by a man...

Good evening people
Hello
Happy New Year!
Happy New Year to you too!
You want some ganja?

So it seems that the story checks out, and my guide wasn't bullshitting me after all.

In other news, my planned whirlwind visit to Canada has been shelved due to travel time and cost. It's a pity, because I was really looking forward to doing something active in this vacation, apart from all the walking. I guess me and excercise just weren't meant to be.

Happy New Year

Apparently they've added an extra second to time to compensate for Earth rotating at a slower pace. Cool.

I went to Times Square last night, hoping to catch a glimpse of a ball that would drop 2005 into 2006. As we marched up 8th Avenue we were constantly being pushed further and further uptown by Police officers due to traffic restrictions, eventually finding an in-road on 57th. And that's where it pretty much ended. I was amidst a sea of people (they estimated that over 1 million were there) and I just happened to be on the wrong side of the building. Even though there were big screens everywhere, it felt like a waste of time and I didn't want to spend another four hours waiting in the crowd with nothing to look at but the people around me and a Sean John billboard of P Diddy raising his right fist.

So I went back to Chelsea to spend another New Year's Eve with my family and I couldn't have been happier.

I think that I've reached a stage in my life where I just want to be alone, or with family and friends. Spending time with strangers and meeting new people and whatnot almost seems like a waste of time. I have everything that I need, I've seen enough of the world to get the general gist of it and I'm lucky to have had more than enough of everything.

You can only fit so many people in your mobile phonebook, and even if mine only had ten spaces, I'd be completely fine.

New Year's Resolution - to always remember that time is invaluable.

The Christmas Tree lights are at the front of Macy's on Broadway.

The scary looking church is actually a night club. I think it's called Avalon.

Happy New Year all.

The Latin Room

I've decided not to write about the plunger incident - a paragraph about clearing a toilet blockage is just too low, even for me.

The past two days has been spent running back and forth between New York and New Jersey, on the 167 that runs down Teaneck and eventually through Bergenfield, where a lot of Filipinos live. Preparations were in place for a semi-reunion for the rest of my mother's clan who couldn't attend the 2004 bash in Davao. All I can say is that there were a lot of people, a lot of good food and a lot of dancing.

I kept to myself, having never met any of these family members before, and left my interaction to a bare minimum - introductions, blessings, greetings, followed by a quick checklist:

* I'm 25
* I was last in Philippines in May 05
* Yes, life is so sweet there
* I work for MetLife
* I have a girlfriend
* No, we're not getting married any time soon
* I don't dance
* I don't sing very well
* I'm not really Filipino. Ha ha ha.

Despite spending the hours necking Corona's and watching everybody else have a good time, I too had a good time. I guess it's just infectious being in a room full of strangers dancing under a red-neon sign.

I woke up this morning to find snow falling outside my apartment window, and it was the most beautiful thing I had seen in a long, long time.