Blind Leading the Blind

I was walking on Prince Street in SoHo behind a blind couple today. They were walking side by side and they walked towards a cafe. The blind man sped up and opened the door, the blind woman walked through then, he kept the door open for me to walk though. When they were led to their table, he pulled out her chair and she sat down then, he sat down. It was a sight to see.

fake it or take it

I never got why girls would fake an orgasm. In doing so, you lead your partner to believe that whatever he is doing is working; you perpetuate the unrewarding performance. But then there's this...if you don't fake it, the brutality persists. By faking it. you put an end to it. I guess it's kind of like giving candy to a kid to shut them up, not the suggested discipline but quick and effective.

Life: family, friends, school, job and, oh yeah, boys.

A hiatus from the blog is a good thing, it means that I'm living my life rather than writing about it...so I hope. As usual, the absence for the past month means that some stuff actually happened.

Let's see...mom came into town, we ate, slept, shopped, yelled, popped into a graduation, oh yeah, graduation happened. "How was it?" you ask? Don't know, I fell asleep...so did mom...it's on tape...a shot of me with my cap in my lap and the sound of momma Jun breathing peaccefully. Some highlights of her trip: she kept swiping the Metro Card and then stood still, waiting for the metal bar to rise- people behind her weren't so kind at those moments. Took her to a couple of shmancy resaurants and her favorite eat in NY was pizza. Instead of lighting a candle at St. Pat's, she blew one out. Finally, in the middle of the night she got up and went downstairs and asked the people outside the bar to please quiet down...and they did. Good things...

What else? Got a gig in a restaurant. Yep, now I really do it all, I serve, I shake, I pour, I carry, I've spilled, I've fallen, I've broken (glasses)...I'm the hostess with the mostess. And to think, my college advisor thought it not be crucial to go back to school. Mom's really proud too,

"So now, you have a masters?"
"Yes."
"And now you work in a restaurant?"
"Yes."
"You're not coming back home, are you?"
"No."
"Yes." *grin*

You know, I hate posts like these where it feels more like a laundry list of past events but then, if I don't memo the highlights (yes, sadly these are the highlights) then, well, all I've written about is boys and 1o years from now I'd like to be able to reflect on other aspects of my life. So, what more non-boy related events or thoughts could I blab about? Hmmm... Great, now I have writers block. I fold.

The question of if I have met anyone in NY is a common one when talking to girlfriends back home and in light of my upcoming visit back home, it's a question that I will inevitably face. It's sad, right? I've been living in The City of the world for almost a year. I've finished school. I'm on the brink on initiating a career. Yet, it is the only guaranteed question. So then, perhaps, girls perpetuate each other's stresses and heartaches about boys. I think I will return and ask my friends who have bf's how they are individually instead of asking how their relationship is?" Then, maybe I'll ask my single girlfriends about their jobs, atkins and new hot spots...so that we can go meet some boys *roll eyes*. I fold.

"grrr..."

I hate the people who:

- feed the pigeons at Washington Square Park, it's so gross
-walk on the left side on a crowded sidewalk
-believe that a stroller allows them free reign over the city
-grab the pole right by the door on the subway during rush hour
-ALWAYS forgets my coke from the Chinese delivery restaurant
-print out a hundred pages at the print center, and I'm after them
-ask me for a light at a crosswalk when it's time to walk
-shout obscenities at the people who shout obscenities at Union Square
-live right above me for laughing so loud every late Thursday night from a night of drinking, especially when I'm sitting here doing this.

Finally, I hate finals week.

Once in a Blue Moon, there is an Eternal Sunshine

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd.
-- Alexander Pope, "Eloisa to Abelard"

Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind just clicked for me. No, this is not a film review- I decided long ago that I would not engage in that practice because 1) it could end up dominating the blog 2) no desires to feign a critic 3) I'm not good at it- I read other reviews and they always sway my opinion.

Saturday late afternoon, cloudy out, and no sample sales so, I went to see a movie. One ticket, one medium popcorn, one small soda and Goobers= $21.50. Bright side-I snatched a good seat in spite of late arrival- that's the perk in solo movie attendance. Dim side- commercials have become part of the trailer sequence.

I was hesitant to see a Charlie Kaufmann piece (Being John Malkovich, Adaptation) for he often leaves me befuddled. The 'think outside the box' always felt like a cop out. It's too passive, agressive. There are no rules or boundaries thus allowing endless open interpretations yet, a lucid vision from the artist persists. No, tell me what you mean and I'll agree or disagree. But Sunshine poignantly translates idylls into reality, and vice versa, by taking you on a ride of life, love and fate. And that's what it is. It is about the ride, not how it ends, who marries, or if they live happily ever after. In his romanticized sci-fi fashion, he illustrates how it's not the results that matter but the journey. A bit clicheic? Perhaps, but what if you knew that a certain love could end would you still go through with it? I mean, have we ever been in a relationship that didn't end? Sunshine approaches this love clutch with the challenging ideology of truly living in the present with no bear in mind of the future yet, knowing that you will want to retain the memories.

"I'm just a fucked up girl who's looking for a piece of her own mind."
-Clementine

Ah-ma, Ah-pa

I actually miss them... a lot.


Christmas 2003

Smile, child

In a city where grimaces are prevalent and normal, someone asked me to smile today. While sitting at the park sipping a chai latte, an elderly black man innocuously approached me, propped his cane on the bench and took a seat. He asked me if I rode the subway. I warily nodded. He told me that I had to shake off the negative energy that roams the underground. T'is true, the subway can be a languid place. Eye contacts are scarce and you can forget about smiles. Now, I'm not exactly your 'turn that frown upside down' kind of gal but sometimes I do wonder if my daily commute would be less oppressive if friendlier simpers prevailed. He mutters, "today's young people don't know how to be happy." I had no rebuttal. My silence was agreement. The tortured soul/the world owes me/I'm going to eat some worms attitude is very in for my generation. As I gathered my things and got up to leave, I turned towards him and flashed the biggest smile I could and told him to have a nice day. He responds, "now go do that around the city." I nod, I pivot, my lips meet, cheeks settle and eyes sit, back to stoic. It's a work in progress...

Vices

Past habits: Chewing gum constantly. Smoking. Vicodin. Splitting split ends. Putting a song on repeat. Swabbing my belly. Looking both ways on a one way street (I said habit thus, not conscious). Running 30-60 minutes late. Eating late at night. Finishing a paper moments before its deadline. Screening calls. Calling my mom back days later. Cooking dinner (microwave counts).

Current habits: Chewing gum only after a smoke (which is still a constant). Putting a CD on repeat. Plucking my hairless lids. Walking on DON'T WALK. Tardy by only 10-15 minutes. Eating after clubs/bars. Proofreading papers the night before. Returning calls. Picking up my mom's call every night. Ordering food in.

I guess it evens out.

On your mark, get set, think.

Some people meditate, some work out, some practice yoga or Kabalah (at least until Madonna finds a new holistic exercise) and then there are those who turn to their Sauconys. I am a part of that latter group. I run. Admittedly, I don't run for health or physical gain- that is evident when I leave the house with with my keys and a pack of smokes.

I reached Central Park and began running. I mean really running. I passed by joggers, pacers and even left some bikers in the dust. Yes, I felt a little silly looking like I was a part of a one-woman Forest Gump marathon with no fellow runners or a finishing ribbon to run towards yet, I found aleviation in pursuing a single-tracked focus. However, I don't know why. I've been running for as long as I can remember not because I'm great at it but because of its boundless liberation. It can be done aimlessly and and requires no honing of a skill so long as it is done solo and that's exactly how I do it. There's no team to answer to or instructor to follow. I find great exoneration in that. I brood over any troubles, stresses or dilemmas. However, I'm beginnning to to question the actual effects of this time honored practice of mine. Perhaps, this limitless terrain is actually limiting. Often when I run, nothing has been effectively resolved. Physically, I return home sweaty and hungry. Mentally, I have completed a wayward loop. Today, during my aimless route that parallels my roundabout thoughts, I decided that the best solution to my problem is to keep running.

Sure, they say not to run from your problems but sometimes I think the best solution to a problem is to not come up with a solution... just keep running and eventually the running will digress into a walk, soon to be followed by a pleasant stroll home.

Club Codes

A couple of observations about clubs/bars I have believed for a while...and apparently, still do...

Ask yourself, is the $7 drink worth a 7 minute conversation? I figure it like this, if a guy offers you a drink, you're obliged to chat with the fella at least until you finish your drink. It may make for better times to treat yourself.

Sometimes I feel like I'm in the "Night at the Roxbury," dancing while earnestly scoping out the scene, scouting for some eye treats. Like the studs from the Roxbury, at that point I'm so preoccupied I just look like a bodily twitch to the music.

When a girl tells a guy that she can't hang out anymore because of her friend, i.e. "I would love to get another round of drinks but I better see what's up with my friend," or "Heading to another bar sounds great but I think my friend wants to head home" it's usually code for I'm politely separating from you. Sure, it's courteous to check in with your partner in a crime but not during game time, we wait for halftime and if we want to play overtime, we don't need to ask for permission.

wow...I need a hobby.

Nikki's Hickies

What to say about Miami? Here are the trigger notes: Ocean's Ave., Collins' clubs, NIKKI BEACH :)>, Delano, Cafe News flash, pizza huddle, fresh Mynt, poisoned Opium...

Sightings: Puff Diddy, Lenny Kravitz (y'all 'member the video with the towel scene? well, the camera does not lie), Paris and beau Nick, J.C. sans Tara, and Korea representing at WMC with Park Jin-Yong.

Shortage of: Patrons, suntain oil, TOWELS, hotel keys ;) shrimp cocktails, mussels.

Abundance of: muscles, ta-ta's, grease, soccer boys, International delectables- Greek, Israel, Canada, Chicos, Itos, Mohitos, Jackson Brothers canNOT sing, Korea stepping up to China, Adam paints still life of Moon, cliches under the stars, sand in the hair (still...dirty), American Eagles preying, long walks over rainbows, pot of gold destinations, Funyun breakfasts, photo shoots a la L & C, Rocket's Invasion, futon heaven, cloud mine, then yours, then hers, mean green dress stress, garage house music+garage band looks= hat goggles, black rover, black rover won't you send the driver on over, ee-eye ee-eye Ito, kisses and misses, great times with a couple of wizards.


Yep, we're dancing in water. Water stage-->dancing sans heels...someone was thinking.

To have felt than not felt at all

The worst possible feeling is feeling nothing. I'm happy to feel sad.

Bienvenido a Miami

Fun in the sun looms upon me. In three short days, I will basking in the sun of Southbeach Miami, sipping margaritas, digging my pedicured feet in the sand. Some girlfriends and I are headed there for the Winter Music Conference. An event that draws the likes of everyone in the music industry: DJ's, musicians, producers, and then of course, the ever-present groupie- that's me. Actually, I prefer the term Band-aid, in memory of Penny Lane. A full weekend of non-stop music, parties, hot tubs, beaches, tanning with others all in the same spirit.

So, then why am I not as excited as I thought I would be? I can't seem to muster up the enthusiasm. Normally, by now I would have re-packed my luggage twice, picked up a beach tote, and found the perfect sunglasses. Rather, I'm preoccupied with what I'll be missing here in NY. Why is it that the one weekend you're out of town, there's something new and different going on in town? I guess St. Patty's Day celebrations are quite festive here, which is a shame because I like the Green. I leave this Saturday, the day after the big B Day so, officially, when I arrive it's just about the sun, sand and sips. I just better get carded.

A Day in the Park

Finally, a peek of spring graced us with its presence today. The slightly balmy air had the enitre city out and about. Tripping on dog leashes, stepping aside for strollers I headed to Washington Square Park to people watch, sip a latte, have a smoke and catch up on phone calls back to Cali.

With so much activity surrounding me, I tucked away the Nokia and became a part of the free-loading audience of street performers. From twin brothas somersaulting mid air, Jerry Garcia look-alikes playing banjos, skaters gliding on the concrete curbs, electoral campaigning, women selling handmade accessories, homeless selling used books and whatever else redeemable dispose, dogs playing, dog owners conversing like proud parents, couples making out, couples fighting, singles reading, talking on phones and scoping other singles, it was a good show. Only in NY could such a show take place all in the confounds of a park simply because it was 54 degrees.

Face-less

I realized that whenever I have liked someone, I can't remember what they look like. I have a vague impression but the face is not clear. Why is that?

Spun Out

I have a thing for D.J.'s. So many nights out I’ve spent looking over the turntables rather than the accessible, available men on the other side of the tracks. Something about them so focused while they’re spinning, something about their oversized headphones, something about their elusiveness from the rest of the bar/club, something about their non-verbal occupation all fuels this mysterious quality. In addition, they’re occupied so you can’t bother them while they’re working, or can you?

Tonight, I found my answer. You can. Out at a bar with some friends, standing near the D.J. booth, he asks if he should play White Stripes or Jane’s Addiction. “Seven Nation Army,” I yelled. Soon, a conversation ignited. And well, idealization turned into realization. I realized that my long-time predilection was better left in my head. I’m bummed. Now, if the night is bust I can’t even have an in-head flirtation. I need to revive my imaginary friend.

Winter is in the air

It’s starting to get warmer and by that I mean red alert blizzard days have simmered but it’s still layering, gloving, scarfing season…and who knows how long it will last.

All winter long I bitched to new friends about the cold like a true New York winter neophyte. It kept me in on some weekends. It made me ruin Via Spigas. It made me enter the Chinese Delivery number on speed dial 3 (after Taco King). It made me spend $12 on coat check at clubs (next winter I’m safety pinning all items together, “Look, miss coat-checker, I know it’s a funny looking jacket”). It made me memorize all the lines to Sex and the City…okay, so I would have done it even in the spring. Now, that spring is looming, it made me appreciate my first New York winter. So, as soon as it ends I can start to be grateful, any day now...

Today is the Sad Day

What will we miss more? The pee-in-your-pants (or in the shower on a politician) humor, the witty banter racketing to and fro, the relatable conversations at the Coffee Shop, the cutting edge fashion (this is an entry deserving of its own), or all its humanity of love, heartbreak, one-offs, or two lives finally shared all delivered through four fabulous women?

Much more needs to be discussed but it's a little hard to type with the keyboard swimming in tears. It's getting hard to breathe...

Until full recovery, I beg that not one more person say to me that it's "the end of an era," I know it is, just don't say it to me. Denial is the place I'd like to be until the season 6 is released in DVD. Okay, my laptop is starting to float...

On a brighter note, I am ecstatic about being able to post images onto my blog! So, I thought what photo would be deserving of being posted as the first of many to come than my 4 best onscreen friends. All was made possible by tech-savvy 'Clavie,' thanks girl.


Final exit from the Coffee Shop.


John?!? Who would have thought? We all know several John's but this one...this one is no John Doe.

Partying on a Playground

Okay, so I lied. No one can be that good of a kisser. I suppose it is what’s in the kiss. A little thing called the zsa zsa zsu, the butterflies, the zing, the chill factor.

The chilling butterflies are still zinging zsa zsa zsu and I don’t even know how or why.

I saw ‘the kiss’ over the weekend at a very special event with no special kiss. With number of friends reduced to a minimum here in NY, I was fortunate enough to have two very special people plan a surprise to ring in the official mark of a new age bracket. Solidly, I am in the mid-twenties. The pros? *scratch forehead* The cons? Meeting others my age steadfast in a career, gradually being invited to weddings, feeling silly shopping at a store called Forever 21 and well, not being 21. Moreover, feeling inane about feeling this way about a boy.

With 'the kiss,' that night was about being single and trying to mingle- sometimes I think the rhymes help. Checking in on him from time to time yet, being elusive it was reminiscent of juvenile games of tag with boys I crushed on in elementary. I am a 25 year old flirting with boys on the playground.

Subway, my way

Is it a practice only in my mother’s homeland to get up and offer your seat to elders? In Korea, a healthy, relatively young individual would be scornfully looked upon for remaining in their seat in the presence of a standing senior.

Having been in NY for half a year now, I am quite familiar with my primary mode of transportation, the subway, a.k.a. the Metro. I am a regular and I would assume many are. Yet, of the many, most are not either not aware of their surroundings or are indifferent to what surrounds them. I often find myself getting up and out of my spot on the bench for an elder, which I am more than fine with, however it shall be noted that there are several healthy men around me that remain seated. New York men…what a surprise.