What kind of world is this? It's kind of crap!



Today is all about the Cure and shirts at engrish and fruitsy clothes and Irregular Choice London shoes.

Argghh. Why must I be so poor?



{In Between Days, The Cure} - come on, sing it with me: go on, go on, just walk away, go on, go on, your choice is made...

Eternal Sunshine in Jersey



Today, lunch at acclaimed low-profile Chinatown spot Chanoodle (79 Mulberry), AMC for movies, McDonald's for Oreo McFlurries.



We went to see two movies whose lead actors I have no affection for. I think the word I'm looking for is loathe. I saw Punch Drunk Love just a couple of weeks back, and despite good reviews about the movie, I could not get over the fact of Adam Sandler playing the main character. Instead of focusing on the movie, I zeroed in on his irritating mannerisms and facial expressions.



Jersey Girl, starring Ben Affleck, J.Lo briefly, and Liv Tyler is tolerable. Of course, being a Kevin Smith movie, it has to have Matt Damon, Ben Affleck and a couple of shock value scenes in it. Raquel Castro steals the show in this movie. I loved the alcoholic street sweeper team. The Sweeney Todd scene was entertaining. Oh, and is Jason Lee losing his hair?



I went in really wanting to like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. There's something compelling about the Focus logo that makes you like the movie you haven't seen yet. And then I started to hate it about a third of the way because of the jerky shots. I understand this is to enhance the quirky film rep, but it is hell watching on a wide screen. Then I started liking it. I mean, winter in Long Island is such a far-off concept to me that the scenes of Clem and Joel frolicking in the snow on the beach, to me, could only be a product of a brilliant mind. I'm a big fan of beautiful shots. This movie actually made me see winter in a different light. This is not to undermine the story - the whole concept behind the story - because Charlie Kaufman's brilliant twisted ideas are always mindblowing. Jim Carrey was low-key, which is a good thing. Sometimes his irritating mannerisms stubbornly show up in Joel, but he gave a good, controlled performance. I'd buy the DVD because it's the kind of movie wherein you'll discover something new everytime you watch it, depending on your state of mind. Jon Brion, who also did Punch Drunk Love's, did the excellent music.

Witchcraft



An old denim bag of mine needed revamping. So I bought some felt from the trim shop, drew a pattern on a paper bag, and came up with this:







Ain't it cute?

At home with my cam (non-porn you dirty idiots)







clockwise from left: my knees and checked bedsheet, cold feet, cds, my pretty Dick and Jane calendar - $1 from Borders, my apple bag, my soundtrack collection

I have arrived



I made top ten in orisinal.

Close encounters



In the two plus years I've been in New York:



1. I've been asked questions by a detective. He was wearing a trench coat, I remember. I was in my pajamas. He was inquiring after a co-tenant, who wasn't even staying in the apartment anymore.



2. My apartment has been burglarized. That was Apartment #2 in Park Slope (same apartment as above), where the co-tenants just loved to leave the door open. The police came and poked around in the basement, the only room the thief was able to break into.



3. I've been visited by the fire department thrice. Once, in Apartment #2 when the upstairs tenant left the water running in his tub, and the ceiling almost caved in. The second time at my office - ten fire trucks parked along Broadway as I stood and watched across the street. And the other night, a firetruck stopped right in front of my apartment. Instinctively, I looked up at the bedroom window, didn't see any smoke, and quickly went up to check anyway. Minutes later, a fireman came to look around. Apparently, the next-door neighbor's smoke alarm went off. They smelled smoke in the apartment, but didn't see a fire, called the fire department anway, in case it was an electrical fire. The firemen left soon after.



Before I moved here I've never even so much as seen a fireman up close.



---



Yesterday, after looking for my travel agent's office in the depths of Chinatown, I decided to walk along Broadway to the next nearest train station, which was Prince. Pearl River Mart was right across the street and I'd been planning on getting a lantern, but decided against it because I didn't feel like crossing the street at that time. So I just kept walking along Broadway. I discovered a funky little jewelry shop where I spent most of my time browsing. I finally left when I noticed it was getting dark. About a block away from Prince, I heard a huge explosion. It came from across the street. An underground explosion of some kind blew a manhole cover into the air. The explosion we'd heard was the cover popping. Manhole explosions are almost common in New York; last night 44 buildings were evacuated in Brooklyn because of high carbon monoxide levels caused by burning electric cables in manholes. I shudder to think, though, that someone could have been stepping on that manhole at the exact moment it blows. After looking to see if anyone was hurt (nobody was), I quickly walked towards the subway station. Sitting in the train, I still had goosebumps all over.

---



A bit of good news: I finally got a camera. I think I made a good choice. All the S50 vs S400 debates come up with the same conclusion. Sure, the S400's pretty and tiny, but the S50 has way more features. In quite a number of forums , a lot of digicam users have said that the S45 was even better than the S50 because squeezing another mega-pixel into the same size sensor affects picture quality. Unfortunately, no one carries the S45 anymore. J & R doesn't even have the S50 anymore. My contact says they're ordering a new shipment, but who knows when that's arriving. I had to go to the almighty B&H, whose drab color scheme I abhor. I must say though, the way customers are herded like cattle in an impressively organized assembly-line style, is very efficient. At times it does feel like a violation of one's humanity. But hey, gotta get with the program if you want your camera before the store closes at seven.

Lessons from the fishball game



1. Treat the ball gently. Once you get the hang of it, it'll be a lot easier



2. If you doggedly pursue a particular fish instead of bouncing around like a maniac and getting distracted by other fish, you will almost always catch it.



3. Head to the surface once in a while. You don't want to lose all those points if a pufferfish gets you.



4. Beware of the pufferfish. They look cute but they'll burst your bubble, literally.



5. If you see those special balls, grab them.



6. Take advantage of invincibility. Go attack a pufferfish if you have it. But remember it's only temporary.



7. With the proper soundtrack, everything is more fun.



8. The ocean is pretty.

Ichiban suki na moto



Shame on me for not exploring Fulton Street sooner. There's a strand in my neighborhood (my work neighborhood, that is) and I didn't even know it. This I discovered yesterdey en route to the seaport for dinner. It was a weird, gloomy, wet day for dinner at the seaport and with our luck, Sequioa was closed, so we ended up eating at the foodcourt. The view is still fabulous though, clear day or not.



Today I set out for a cheap books expedition and emerged with three finds. Hey, that's pretty good for thirty minutes. At the train station, I discovered my copy of The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing had a Gore Vidal price tag on it, and thus inflated my total. Otherwise, all three books would have cost less than twenty bucks. Word of advice: You might as well walk to Fulton Street if you're in the Wall Street area. Uptown trains are always crowded and take forever, such that when you get to strand, you'd be in such a hurry and yet still be totally awed and fascinated at the disarray that when you finally get back to your office, you'd only have time to pick up a diet Snapple and a pack of cashew nuts for lunch, which you'd have to eat at your desk because you're already late.







Tomorrow I'll be on another expedition to get a refund and perhaps a nice little Japanese-English dictionary. If you adored Lost in Translation like I did and love singing along to songs, here's a neat little thing I found:



Mochi no hazure no, senobi shita roji wo

Sanpo shitetara, shini darake no

Moya goshi ni okinuke no romen densha ga

Umi wo wataru noga

Mietan desu sorede boku mo

Kaze wo atsumete, kaze wo atsumete, kaze wo atsumete

Aozora wo kaketain desu, aozora wo



Walking on the overstretched alley

In the outside of the city

Through the blemished haze

I saw a first tram across the sea

And so,

Gathering the wind, gathering the wind, gathering the wind

I wanna fly the blue sky, the blue sky.





[from misanthropic]



{Kaze Wo Atsumete, Happy End}

This in months ago



I'm in love with the HP commercials. Besides using a Cure song, they appeal to the frustrated photographer in me. Photographers must look at the world exactly like that - in 3x5 slices.

The universe is a strange but wonderful place



All week, I've whined and been grouchy and snapped at people. Well, today, stepping out into a rainy Thursday morning, I found a possum hiding behind the giant flowerpot by my door. Actually, the landlord had already called earlier to warn us about him. The guy downstairs popped out of his apartment to warn me too, as I started to open the door. "Be careful!," they said, as if this huge, furry monster would suddenly pounce on me as I stepped out the door. But there he was - a harmless, shivering possum snuggling into the flowerpot for whatever warmth it could offer him. We stole glances at each other as I warily made my way down the stairs, but anyone could see he was just as scared of me.



So here I am cursing the stars for my poor, unfortunate soul and the universe says, behold this possum. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but I have never ever seen a possum before, and I felt like I was gliding through the city all day.



He was gone when I came back home from work.



{Watch the Girl Destroy Me, Possum Dixon}

Maybe I'm losing sleep over nothing



I called home today. My mom named the new lab Smokey. I wanted Walter or Oscar, but I took too long to call home and they have to call the puppy something.



My dad asked me, yet again, if I had looked around for schools for my MBA. He read an article about the University of Phoenix Online, and he wants me to check it out. I keep telling him, I can't afford it. I can barely support myself. He's sort of hinting that he might pay for it. God, just thinking about it makes me cringe. One thing that I'm really proud of about myself is that I haven't asked my parents for a single penny ever since I left the Philippines in 2001. Asking my dad for tuition is just so out of the question even though, sometimes, I really feel like just dropping everything - quitting my job and running back home. Back home to real meals, laundry that's always done, and endless afternoons.



But no. I have to be a grown-up and sit at my desk and take calls and tell people who make twice as much as I do how to do their jobs.



Besides, I'm not even eligible for an MBA yet. I've got a year. Maybe things will come together. Maybe I'll get myself out of this rut. Maybe I'll get a new job, one that I like. Maybe I'll break up this pity party.



{Waiting for the Sunset, Beulah}