The NYC Expirience: Summer Edition

Those two weeks come and gone, I'm back in the office, and already missing my vacations... or the vacations from my vacations (vacations squared).

First of all, for those of you who like looking at pictures of other people having fun, or mediocre points of view of a city that has been photographed since the first brick was laid, then go here.

I refuse, however, to give a blow-by-blow recount of the whole trip, mainly because it would make this post too long, and besides, I forget details easily... it would be frustrating.

So, without further ado:

Things I Loved

1)

Visiting Chickpea, now known as Tahini. Different name, same awesome menu. However, the unconditional awe died a bit when we found a much better place at half the price very near the Clark Street Station in Brooklyn. However: finally getting a whole Shawafel in my tummy? Priceless!



2)

Finally seeing the Alice in Wonderland sculpture (also known as the Margarita Delacorte memorial). It was everything I thought it would be, and more. If you delve into the Flickr set I linked at the top, you'll see I was very thorough in documenting all details possible, including a tiny snail right under the biggest mushroom, and a squirrel peeking out of the base of the Cheshire Cat's tree. It was big enough even for ME to climb into Alice's lap, and that was more than enough for me.

3)
Running by accident into the Hans Christian Andersen sculpture, featuring a lovely, charming, adorable rendition of the Ugly Duckling. It was totally unexpected and heartwarming.








4)
Di Fara's. Suffice it to say it has ruined all other pizzas for me. If you're looking for flashy, quick, blow-you-out-of-the-water experience, go elsewhere. This place was slow and not mind-blowingly friendly. It's a hole in the wall with more than a few kinks that need ironing out, from the layout of the tables to the state of the acoustic ceiling.

However, if you're looking for a sublime experience comparable to finally finding the truth about how death works, then this is the place for you. As soon as you cross the door, the first thing that hits you is the respectful silence. It's like walking into hallowed grounds, and indeed! Watching Dominic De Marco go about his business making pizza pies was like a religious experience - that is to say: I'm not conventionally religious, I also find the same kind of satisfaction from watching a beautiful sunset. Well, these were beautiful, delicious, delectable pizza pies. The best I've had. And the only thing that it provokes in me now is bittersweet tears: thankful that I had the opportunity of tasting such delicious pizza; dismayed that it will probably be a long long while until I taste it again (let's hope Mr. De Marco will last on this earth a great deal longer).

5)
Sharing more than a few interesting experiences with Eze. Tears were shed, laughs were had. The whole trip was intense in any and all ways imaginable. However, the days shared with Eze, just the two of us by ourselves, were the best. I came to realize that, even through the bitter arguments, we are more like each other than what I would have first thought. We behave differently, but the things that attract us are pretty much the same.



Case to prove the point?




6)
Union Square. We spent more than a few nights dallying around this area, from there to Saint Mark's Place and back. We felt incredibly at ease spending our dead hours just sitting on a bench (or on the plaza steps) just looking at the people go by.






7)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art! I just wish I had a whole week to stay and peer at every single piece closely. To read all the information tags and the stories behind the expositions. There were SO MANY rooms I never got to visit ... this is a definite re-visit candidate, by all means. If only to sit in the Renaissance sculpture room (so pure and white when doused in sunlight ... so full of history!) Go to my Flickr set if you want to see a bit more of what I believed to be worth the furtive snapshot - cameras were allowed, however, I felt a bit like an outlaw. Taking pictures were my way of swiping my favorite pieces into my pockets and taking them home. (Don't miss the tiny heads and bulls "collections"!)


8)
Trying new types of cuisine. I had Thai food for the first time in my life, as well as my first cup of Turkish coffee ever. I cannot say these were the best culinary experiences in my life, but at least I can say I tried it at least once. (In my opinion? Turkish coffee is extremely thick ... too thick to enjoy)




9)
The smell of real roses. I had NO idea wild roses could smell so good. A whiff of one of these finally brought the comprehension that had eluded me all my life: I finally understood the passion for the smell of a rose. I finally understood why people obsess over these flowers. And I realized that it's of fools to pretend that a reaped rose will smell the same as one that's safe and sound still tied to the ground. We will never really capture the smell of a rose without sacrificing the sweetness of its aroma by its own death.






10)
The John Lennon Memorial. A beautiful homage, forever kept alive by The People.












11)
I finally saw a trilobite fossil! Forever haunted by the image of these animals, seeing them in other creatures, like the horseshoe crab and the Ohmu... and when I came to see what they were actually (sort of) like: they were freaking SMALL! Hahahah! Mini-Ohmus... cute! This was in the Natural History Museum, and the whole trek through the museum was fascinating and educational. As with the Metropolitan Museum of Art, this museum would require a few entire days to see and fully enjoy it.

12) Other places I tried and/or loved:
- Max Brenner - It's ALL about the chocolate. You step through the door and the chocolate aroma ATTACKS you! Lovely place!

- Così - Their specialty is sandwiches, but they also make "hearth-baked dinners" which actually means: a bunch of pieces of chicken and ham and bacon topped with a fuckload of cheese and put through the broiler. DELICIOUS!

- Bamn! - This is what I imagine true pop-Japanese cuisine to be like nowadays. Everything is bought through dispensing machines. How alien! But they surprised me with two over-the-counter offerings: green tea ice cream (I prefer the twist vanilla-green tea ice cream, it's softer to the palate), and snow cones (I had a cherry-flavored one, which is a slight departure from the traditional raspberry flavor we favor so much here)

- The AMC IMAX Theater - Totally new experience! We watched The Dark Knight there, which has a few IMAX scenes in it. Totally worth the over-price, but I just wish we had been able to see it with the usual movie theater gang.

- Ricky's - Take a beauty supply hole-in-the-wall, put it on steroids, keep the prices down ... what do you get? HEAVEN!

- Anthropologie - Incredibly expensive, but so uniquely cute! Thankfully, I'm not rich, otherwise I'd blow my savings account on this brand.

- Fanelli's Cafe - We went in without expectations. We got good beer and food at adequate prices. The surprise? Looking up and seeing "Saloon Certificates" that dated up to 1873!!!

- FuerzaBruta - Just ... watch the video... and be aware that whatever you see in there is not even an infinitesimal piece of the things you experience in those 50 minutes you spend in that room surrounded by insane performers.

In New York - Summer Heat Sucks

Damn it's hot in here! I'm getting constant headaches, and while I still ADORE this place, the headaches are sorta ruining it for me. I'm hoping my body will get used to it. The heat is dry and I'm thirsty all the time. Lots of family quarrels, of course, we're like a TON of people in the same house. The drama, the drama!

But we already re-visited Saigon Grill (a Vietnamese cuisine franchise) and realized the place is REALLY awesome. Nicely priced, GREAT food, all in all a very good experience. I visited the CO Bigelow apothecary at 6th Avenue, and while I did find the tinted mint lip gloss I wanted, the rest of the merchandise was cruelly expensive. But I found a beauty supply somewhere down the same street and was able to get some soap, shampoo, conditioner, and a beautiful blue Orly nail color.

We went to Time Square last night, and it was WAY more crowded than the last time we went. Still felt bombarded by the excess of lit advertising. Went into the Sephora store there, and was overwhelmed by the variety of items and the crowd in there.

I'll keep posting while I'm able. Today, we will be enjoying a family day in the house (my father-in -law's sister's house).

Ah ... and the Doctor Martens boots? Nice for walking... SHORT distances. I'm nursing blisters right now as we speak. :-) Yayyyy ...

NYC [Planning] Wish/Playlist

So, well ... it's only 10 days away now, and Eze & I (plus a few other interested and involved parties) have been mulling over what our plans are for our vacations at NYC. First and foremost, of course, there's the family. Seeing otherwise would be ungrateful, to say the least, since it was my father-in-law that paid for the plane tickets, and it is his sister who will shack us in during our 13-day stay.

But apart from that, we have plans, and hopes, and wishes. So many that I had to write it all down on a list - excitement often impairs clarity of thought, although I'm aware that we will probably not get to do everything we want to do, nor see all we want to see. But a list will help, when at a loss for clear plans... so this is it (in no particular order, although, bear in mind: first things that come to mind are usually either the most important or the most urgent).

- I want to finally see the Alice in Wonderland sculpture by George Delacorte, in Central Park


The first time I saw a photograph of this sculpture I was 6, and in total awe of its bigger-than-life quality. At least it seemed bigger than life to little ol' me, considering that the picture included a throng of little kids clambering over the statue, and that they were dwarfed by Alice's figure. Since then, I've longed to do the same. Maybe this time around, I'll finally be able to sit atop a mushroom. :D

- I want to go back to Chickpea and have the shawafel I didn't get back then.


Goddamned be me and my synaptic tantrums.

- On that same line of thought, I want to go to Ray's Pizza again. That pizza is worth a revisit. And maybe have a pizza bagel as well.

- Celebrate our anniversary. July 23rd ... what a day ... four years now, of which 3 have been spent living together. Beautifully. :-) And to celebrate it in style:

Di Fara in Brooklyn ...


Magnolia Bakery (there are two locations, it's a tossup where we'll end up!)

and

Martha Wainwright at the Highline Ballroom


- We have plans to visit a friend at Pelham Bay, and also visit Battery Park ... maybe catch view of the Statue of Liberty from afar (no, I'm not interested in seeing her up close ... now bring me to DaVinci's David, and I'll volunteer to lick it!)

- The museum rounds: the Guggenheim, the MoMA, the Metropolitan, etc ... it would take days, and I'm not getting my hopes up on getting to see them all.

- I wanna visit Chinatown and Little Italy, and this one street they talked to me about that is lined with bead stores.

- And more stores: Sephora, CO Bigelow ... and heh heh! maybe I'll give in to that whimsical invitation to Macy's, so my dear friend can laugh at my gawking face while I take in 7 stories' worth of capitalism.


So for those Facebook friends that have been wondering "what the heck is that countdown about": T-10 ... and counting! :D

Revisiting: Boots

I haven't created a new look at ShopStyle.com for a long time now (it's an incredibly fun timewaster, though, but I don't have all that much leisure time anymore). However, I've lately found myself revisiting this style more frequently:



It's all in the boots, people. I first became enamored of Doc Martens-style boots at the age of 15. I was in public school, and rules on footwear were much more lax than they've become in later years. I bought my first 10-eye-Doc Martens-imitation pair at a Payless Shoe Store and wore them daily: to school, to hang outs ... I have to confess that I even lost my virginity with those boots on my feet. They lasted more than enough, considering the wear and strain on them, and they were cast into the dark oblivion of my closet as soon as the sole went unglued. Later on, moths did their final work on them and they were rendered irreparable.

Later on I fell in love with another pair, this time off a Delias catalog. They were 14-eye with a raised toe, slightly glossier than what I was used to. They were incredibly uncomfortable at first, but I broke them in, and after that they were a total hit in my life. I loved those boots until their fiery demise five years ago.

I haven't owned a pair of proper boots since then. I guess I thought I had outgrown the boot-wearing phase, but this sudden obsession has proved me wrong. I bought a pair of knee-high boots the other day at Hot Topic:


They look incredibly cool, but I realized today they're not that awesome for walking long distances or for extended periods of time. Part of the boot-craving is to have a good pair of shoes to massacre on my upcoming trip to NYC. These boots do not fit the bill for such a purpose.:-(

So I'm back to square one on my quest for some nice, comfy Doc Martens boots. Maybe I should cut the crap and invest on the real deal. I think I'm ready to commit to boots again.

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

Last two weeks have been intensely interesting, to say the least.

- I considered myself unemployed, my head about to burst with the effort of pushing through the last two weeks (those drasted two weeks' notice good employees always give).

- Then suddenly I'm not so unemployed anymore. All my worrying about whether I'd be able to study, if I'd be able to hold my job in spite of the fact that I'll be going on an already-paid-for vacation to NYC in July ... worrying simply because I quit without a safety net, and I was plummeting speedily towards the Sea of the Idle and the Impoverished. But then a great friend trusted me so much and had so much faith in what I can do, that she twisted things around the way I thought they couldn't be twisted.

I'm a happy (and very peaceful) camper now.

Other things are happening, though, and my life apparently refuses to be without a bit of drama and uncertainty. It's as if I am a magnet for trouble and ... well, let me not gripe too much about it. Drama and uncertainty is what makes your blood pump quicker. :-) I need all the livelihood I can get.

Our Visit to the San Diego Zoo

I can commune with a Kitschy Bear too!, originally uploaded by dhevi_anais.

I am no militant animal rights activist, but I feel pretty passionately about the subject, specially when it comes to issues such as animal cruelty, most predominantly in circuses and puppy mills.

I understand that the idea of keeping a wild animal in captivity is not quite right, it's not fair at all to the animal's inherent right to freedom and domain of his own territory and life. However, we've already fucked up the planet enough that sometimes an animal's territory and free life are not what's best for its survival and well-being. That's why I'm not 100% against zoos. During my visit, the San Diego Zoo convinced me that they too feel that way in the most part, and the animals they keep, even if their space is much more limited than what a free range would be, are healthy and well cared for.

Besides, and this is the selfish, Elmyra-like part of me talking: I like seeing animals up-close, specially those I haven't seen before. It gives me a rush to the head like few other things do.

The San Diego zoo is huge like none I've previously visited. I haven't seen all that many zoos. To be honest, I've only visited the Zoológico de Mayagüez (the main Puerto Rican zoo), the zoo inside the Science Park in Bayamón (terribly depressing, I'm amazed they haven't been shut down), the Matecaña Zoo in Pereira and the Miami Metro Zoo (a free-range zoo, most probably bigger than the San Diego Zoo, but I was way too young when I visited, so I don't remember too well). Thing is, I wasn't quite ready for the vastness of the zoo. More than half a day wasn't enough to see everything there was to see. We missed the big cats and the monkeys, for example. However, they have set tourist traps outside every main attraction. I think that's a way of not only selling every plushie, keychain, resin figurine and t-shirt imaginable, but it's also a way to guarantee that no one will get to see the whole zoo in a single day, so they'll buy a 2-day or 3-day pass for the next time.


Our main goal for the day was to NOT get lost inside the zoo, and at least that we achieved. We got on the tour trolley as soon as we got inside, just to get a gist of how the zoo was laid out. In spite of our best common sense, we sat on the top tier of the bus. I got a nice sunburn on my arms as a result, but we got to see some of the exhibits from a nice vantage point. No big cats nor monkeys, though. They like the dark, apparently, so their exhibits are not as easily accessible or viewable.

I tried to take as many pictures as possible from the vantage point the top tier offered, but the point came fast enough in which I was so amazed by everything that I didn't know where to look, much less where to point the camera lens. So Eze took the camera from my hands and took some pictures himself.

Yay for a smiling and confused Diana!

After the trolley, we got on the Skyfari (an aerial tram), which would have been totally fun, but instead was totally hilarious, as I realized Eze is pretty nervous about unsecured heights. I laughed all the way to the other side of the zoo. Yes, I'm evil that way.

We then visited the polar bear exhibit: a huge tank with some rocks and overhangs to provide shade for the bears. The special part is that the tank has an observation room that allows the public to view a side section of the water as well, so we could enjoy what was going on underwater just the same as what was going on at the top. At that hour, the little Coca-Cola pals were having some nap time, however. I was amazed at how much they look like dogs, not ferocious at all. I guess I'd be of a different mind if I were stranded in the Arctic pole (or on the island of Lost).


After that we ambled around a bit, ate some cheap-ass churros (after tasting some decent copies in here, having imitation churros at a zoo park is a lukewarm experience at best). Caught some four-legged, hooved friends, including the ever-so-hailed zebra - which is just like a donkey glorified by very funky stripes.

One of the biggest highlights of the trip to the zoo was seeing the pandas. Pandas are said to be on the verge of extinction, mainly because of their refusal to have sex (therefore procreate), plus they insist on eating only bamboo, which is a very frail plant that gets wiped out with incredible regularity. It seems to be a species bent on self destruction, just like us humans. I guess that's why we:
1) insist on meddling in their affairs and keep them in captivity, every once in a while goading them to fuck, utilizing increasingly weird methods of encouragement, and
2) get all teary-eyed, sympathetic and soft-hearted at the sight of one of these distant cousins to the raccoons. However, when we see a raccoon, we can't help but thing of garbage, go figure!


However stupidly suicidal as this species seems to be, having them so close was almost magical... and I couldn't stop thinking of my sister all the while.

There was also the issue of the kiwi. I really wanted to see one of them, SO much, principally to take a few pictures to show my brother (he has been nicknamed "Kiwi" since he was 14 years old). We deviated from the fastest route and took the most up-hill trekk to be able to see these birds. I was SO curious, I had never seen one of these up-close. I arrived to the exhibit only to be greeted by a slab of metal, a note on kiwis, saying that these are nocturnal birds and that the exhibit had been set up with a lighting scheme similar to moonlight, to increase to probability of the kiwis showing during open hours. GODDAMMIT! The exhibit was fucking dark as hell, and worse yet, no kiwis showed! >-( Goddamned antisocial animals!


Yep! That's a very frustrated Diana, trying to be contented with having a picture taken with a fucking board...


One new favorite animal after this trip? The meerkats! I was very surprised by these fellas. I was under the impression that these animals were as big as a small dog, but when I saw these bite-sized bundles of playfulness, I was hooked. They're small, they're cute, they're playful and they're carefree. For the time we were there, three or four meerkats were playing around under the sun, tumbling and running onto each other and flopping belly-up to bask in the sunlight. They made a fan out of me in a couple of minutes!

Finally we stopped by the elephant pen: two Asian elephants and an African one share a relatively small territory. I don't know how they pull it off, and it seems as if the reduced space has kept the elephants from growing into their full-fledged glory. Or maybe as an adult I've grown to expect things as majestic as elephants to be as huge to my eyes as they were to my 8-year-old self.

We wrapped it up by visiting the koala exhibit. Funny thing is, while the koalas held behind acrylic sheets were stuffing their faces, the ones sitting in their trees outside were all curled up in their sleep in an exactly identical fashion. These little critters seemed fragile to me, not in a baby-cute way, but in an old-geezer-who-needs-your-elbow-to-stand-up sort of way. It's like getting a grandpa wrapped up in extra-fuzz.

We left the zoo with lighter wallets, but we at least got the idea that next time we should dedicate more time to the visit, and maybe even give more attention to the Wild Animal Park.

BTW: You can visit my Flickr set of our visit to the San Diego Zoo and get the whole gist of the paseo: I took tons of pictures and included more than a few comments. So feel free to drop by, look around and leave comments ;-)

Our Visit to San Diego - The Town

That's better!, originally uploaded by dhevi_anais.

We got to San Diego on Tuesday (July 24th) at midnight. Ravenous, thanks to the overprice of airport food and the hairline slit of a time frame between connecting flights, we were oh-so-thankful when we realized, already in the room, that there was at least one pizzeria available for delivery until 3am. Nothing could have prepared us for the kind of yuckiness such pizza would possess: it was progressively bad as you ate it, until at the end you were only minutes away from disemboweling your disgust at the porcelain throne. Hahahah! Thankfully, the rest of the trip fared much better, food-wise.

The free breakfast was way better, as Pepe can attest! Thank you, Pepe! The offer was "Free Continental Breakfast", and I was expecting a deluge of fruit and seeds, like a huge trail mix on a plate. I was pleased to find that they also included cereal, pastries, muffins and a small toaster oven.


The first day, we went immediately to find our feet: bought a 4-Day Tripper and saw a bit of downtown San Diego, before heading for the Zoo (I will talk at length about the Zoo on a later post). After the Zoo, we headed immediately to the convention center for Comic-Con Preview Night (I will also talk at length about the Comic-Con on a later later post). At the end of all that flurry of activity, we were tired and incredibly hungry again (the San Diego Zoo doesn't offer a great variety of fair-priced, healthy, hearty meals ... just nachos, fajitas and churros, and all of it is junk-food quality and overpriced. The convention center didn't have any food stands open either, I think. So after some bickering and dawdling, we finally plopped our sorry and tired asses on a sports bar/restaurant named the Lobster Baja Burrito mutherfucker ... No, that's not the actual name, but it was equally long and I didn't keep a memento to remind me. The food was yummy, fairly priced, and abundant. I was a happy camper, and I think my travel buddies were happy as well. We went to sleep full and contented.

After that, the rest of the trip was mainly about the Comic-Con. For the next couple of days, we woke up at about 7am had our Free Continental Breakfast, and headed for the convention center. On Thursday, we decided to visit the Horton Plaza, a sort of mall in a totally different style from the ones I've seen so far in my life and travels: it has steps and levels all over, pretty but confusing! Pepe says he visited one just like that in L.A. I wonder if that's the ways malls are all over California...

We found another gastronomic haven at the Horton Plaza that night: the something-something Café (sorry, my memory is hideously bad when the rest of the body is taking over all the energy), which is sort of like a deli-style market with a small grill outside. We ate ... a LOT. I'll have to say: when they advertise grain bread, they DO mean grain. It was unnerving to feel thick, chewy seeds inside my sandwich. The grilled chicken alfredo pasta (cold!) was awesome, and I finally had my first Cherry Coke ever! I bought a Cherries n' Cream soda and a canned cold "frappuccino" drink from Cinnabon for the road (they were good too!). I also tried their berry parfait: not so good.

On Friday night we took the wrong bus, ended up pretty far from the hotel, had to take a taxi all the way back. It was a creepy experience, mostly because (in the bus) I sat in front of a guy that at first sight looked all normal and primped. After a while I noticed he was laughing to himself for no apparent reason (no Bluetooth hands-free cell phone system nor headphones were on sight) and he was also sucking his thumb (a full grown man!) and fondling his own chest. Ew!!! and Weird!!! After that, I couldn't fully gather my nerves again that night.

Saturday was the oddest day: we woke up at 3:50 to head out as early as possible to the convention center (that day the Battlestar Galactica and Heroes panels were to be held). We had the bestest of days there, topped off by a nice and cheap meal at the resident (fish) taco place: Rubio's Mexican Grill. It was more than fairly priced, the fish taco was decent (at least) and the rest of the food was quite yummy. We visited once more before heading back home, just so you know. We even wished we had the money to bring the franchise to Puerto Rico, it would dethrone Taco Maker and Taco Bell in the bat of an eyelash.

Sunday and Monday were sort of wind-down days: Eze and I didn't leave bed until past 9 am. Both days we totally missed breakfast hour, but bless Mari and Pepe! they brought us some breakfast to the room (talk about friendly room service!) On Sunday we ventured far into Gaslamp street and ambled into a small, posh restaurant (don't remember the name either). The prices were a bit hefty, so I ordered a prosciutto pizza (nice! topped with red onions and goat cheese, although it irked me that they put the prosciutto in the pizza before cooking it, so the ham was sort of over-salty and chewy ... a total pet peeve of mine).

On Monday, to while a bit of time away before leaving for the airport, Mari and I walked a block from the hotel to a local Salvation Army thrift shop. I left with 5 "new" shirts (of which 4 turned out to be pretty decent buys for $3.50 apiece) and a few other trinkets. We arrived at the airport at 3 pm to wait for our flight, which left at 10 pm. Pretty long wait but the San Diego airport is pretty comfy and it offers a few decent-priced options for food.

I was sad to leave, I always am. Leaving is my least favorite part of a trip. Both flights (going and coming back) were horrendous. The Economy-Class seats at Delta and US Airways are terribly uncomfortable and narrow, and damn the day they decided to start scrimping on food! Snacks and drinks at airplanes now are a joke! Even the peanuts are bad. Plus we had a small incident with one of the flight attendants from Delta. I wouldn't bother saving a few bucks to fly with them again. It's not worth it.

So, my take on San Diego?

A nice place to visit, it's incredibly near to Mexico (one of the trolley lines, the Blue Line, goes all the way to Tijuana ... haaa! How I would have loved to make that trip!), and it shows mainly on the food. The climate is bizarre: the sun heats you up and makes you sweat, but the breeze is chilly. I'm surprised I didn't get sick. People there are terminally nice and customer service is incredibly great at large!


The views and the scenery are what you would expect of a city lining a docking bay: boats and seagulls abound, and sunsets are quite tranquil and pretty. Nothing much that is missing in this island, though. Only detail is that the city is cleaner and more orderly (and, of course, this being California, you have way much more chances of running into the beautiful and famous - not an exceptionally great plus to me). It's expensive, and the people there seem to be living life much more preoccupied with how they look than with what they think. Maybe I'm mistaken, though.

I noticed two distinct social classes: the upscale rich kids, visiting Old Town for an afternoon of shopping, and the Mexicans, either obviously service workers and maids, or kids out into the other part of town that's somewhat less refined, less touristic - the part of town I would have liked to get to know better.


BTW: Trains got to me. Line cars were pretty and quaint - I had never seen one in real life. But trains are something else. I had seen the Metro at NYC, which is wonderfully engrossing and I will forever be in love with it. But the train in San Diego was the first actual freight train I've seen in my life. I couldn't have fathomed the length of these vehicles, and no one could have conveyed to me the attention their prescence commands ... at least the attention they command from me. I'm in love with trains. That much I can say.

I'm helplessly in love with New York City, this much I could surmise by visiting yet another place that does not fulfill and does not command the heart the same way New York has.

But fun was had, the company was insurmountably great... would do it again in a heartbeat. But let me rest for a year before ... the flight over there is too long and restless.

Also: I read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows during my trip: FUCK Mrs. Rowlings! I feel cheated ...

Teaser for Memoirs on San Diego Comic Con 2007

I'm back on track, back at work, back to same ol' same ol'... after a week of travel, of discovering what it's like on the west side.

We attended the Comic Con on a year in which attendance was estimated to be a little over 123,000 individuals. It felt like it alright. Crowds were mind-bogglingly large, lines were overlong, and after 5 days of experiencing the warmth of a small town squeezed into an auditorium, I definitely needed to decompress.

I finally got to see a live panda and more than a few koalas curled up in their sleep. I learned a few things about a certain Australian bird and hugged a metal bear. I met a man that changed my life as a child, and without meaning to, I made his day. I saw an absurd amount of movie trailers and previews, some of which turned my eyes into starry orbs with wonderment, but of which I only remember the names of very few.

We (Eze, Pepe, Mari and I) shared our funds for food and other supplies, shared cheap sandwiches and bad pizza, shared a lot of time together, had good times, had arguments, but all in all we had a blast.

Later on, I will be posting pictures and a full recount (up to what my memory will allow) very soon.

Summer: To Job or Not to Job?

As I was exiting the gas station's mini-market (one of the few breakfast havens I have adopted in the past few weeks), I crossed a young girl (probably college-aged) attired so: head covered in mini-braids held back in a loose, low ponytail, huge, shiny sunshades, light-colored shorts, non-fashion (that means "practical") tennis shoes with thick socks, and a baggy, green T-shirt with a cheap logo across the front that read "Entretenimiento de Verano" (Summer Entertainment) or some crap like that. It took me 2 seconds to realize this girl must work at a summer camp. What drove the idea home was the blow whistle slung around her neck. And then I remembered, I truly remembered my summer of 1997.

I was 19, in college, studying commerce, most likely still debating myself between a career in accounting and a career in information systems. I didn't have a steady job, never quite needed it since I always fully qualified for a federal scholarship, but summer was always the weak link in that way of life: no scholarship meant no funding, no fun, no plans, no nothing. Summer was "the time to get a job" by excellence. The previous summer (1996) I had had my brief stint in a "healthy junk food" joint, lasted two months, had a miserable time (specially at the later hours of the afternoon, when kids my age would come into the establishment all sun-kissed, trailing salt and sand with their worn flip-flops - that was the year I met the bottled tan firsthand... never again!).

So, in 1997 I was ready for a breath of fresher air, and I let myself be led by a friend to apply for a job at a summer camp. I had never had any experience doing anything remotely similar to this, with the exception of babysitting my sister, and even that always brought skin-creeping memories. But I didn't think it through: I handed over a filled application and got a call a few weeks later. We had to go through a screening process, which meant that we had to prove that we would be good camp counselors and leaders, that we would be able to keep control of a 20+ group of [rich, stuck up] kids. Incredibly enough, I (who have never considered myself to be a natural leader of any sort) got picked for the job, as well as my friend and many others. It was to be 4 camp leaders to a group. I got chosen as part of the leader team for a group of 30 5-year-old girls. Thirty Daddy jewels. Thirty princesses whose parents would keep an eagle eye on us at all moments possible.

It was an amazing experience, though as harrowing as it would seem. I realized that I had it in me to care for other people's children. The girls grew onto me, we got close like family. A whole month of spending more than 8 hours a day with a child will automatically turn you into a secondary parent. Tending to their every needs, having to take it easy when at least 15 of them decide to scream at the same time for something they want, curing boo-boo's, identifying lice .... even identifying what they cannot say, as it happened once with another group's 2-year-old boy: he was crying and the girl in charge was to the end of her rope, she didn't get it. The little boy could not express that the heat outside was smoldering to him. I held some icy water to his face and he immediately calmed down and went into a deep sleep. I gained a fan for the rest of the day!

That summer was one of the most active I ever had: I got a natural suntan by just playing in the sun with the children almost daily. I was starting to date a total idiot who was however highly social, so the outings were frequent, and sometimes even fun. I was fully immersed in social activities and pop culture. I became one of the clan. I think this was the summer that had me assimilated into the commerce student culture. I had begun the month's worth of work with the idea that the $700 I got as payment would be used to get my first tattoo. By month's end, I had dropped the idea. It would be 4 years later that I would get my first tattoo. By then, the sun-kissed, carefree, sociable Diana would be gone in favor of someone much closer to her own roots.

Summer is a time in which no one is quite content: unless you have copious amounts of money, you either stay at home and be bored to tears by the repetitive, mind-numbing TV programming, or you get a job that will keep you from having all the fun you intended to have with the money you earned. That's the way it is for most college kids, unless they signed on for summer classes, in which case the misery is doubled because you have no time to earn money nor do you have time to chill out, and it will be something you will have to do also as soon as summer is over, so it annuls summer altogether.

I envied the ones that went abroad, though. But that took money, regardless of whether it was for studying or pleasure.

As a working adult, however, summer takes other undertones. Summer ceases to exist as "the free time you get between semesters". It becomes "a time which I may get free as well as I may not", and what you get is one or two weeks in which you try to cram as much enjoyment as you can, leaving you so exhausted that you need a vacation from your vacations. It's even more absurd.

That summer in 1997 was the last one in which I held a college-type job. After that, summers became a blur. I never got as sun-kissed again, nor as sociable. Truth be told, I don't miss it, however much I hold that memory in my heart. But it helped me recognize when people are having the same miserable fun at summer camp.

Little Notes #3: Moving Days & Cruel Summers

Summer's here (to my brother's chagrin, he's convinced that summer is jinxed for him), and there are plans around, waiting for the right time, the right moment. There's, for example, a group trip in the plans (for which I will furnish more details later). Closer still is our moving day. The date has been set for June 16th. Thankfully we don't own all that much shit, and we're basically moving our room only, so it should be a pretty simple (or at least short) affair. There have also been talks of going to the beach, going kayaking, a few summer-y things to offset our shut-in natural habits (Eze's and mine). In short, summer promises to be interesting at least.


Moving Day is at Hand (Diana & Eze Edition)

There are a few things I've been meaning to do as soon as we move. It's not so much that I can't do them at our current living space, most of them I can, but I never felt comfortable doing them. Besides, living out of a darkened room (in which only the distant, indirect rays of sun alighted dimly through the half-closed window shades) is at best a glum way to lead a Sunday afternoon.

Things I mean to do as soon as we set new camp in our own apartment:

1) Retake Yoga - it's been more than a year since I last did yoga. I'm sorely missing it... literally. I can feel my bones misaligned (one of the main reasons why I love yoga so much: there are some positions in which my back cracks, and that feels SO good!)

2) Give myself a pedicure and a manicure - my limbs need some TLC. They're dry, cracked and flaky. A nice Sunday afternoon spent soaking hand and feet in soapy water is just what I need.

3) Spend a Saturday morning with a huge coffee mug and a piece of warm bread with margarine in front of my laptop surfing the net, in nothing but my underwear... in the dining room ^_^ windows open to the morning breeze! YAY!

4) Take my sewing machine to be fixed. We'll have space for it now. Maybe I'll finally learn some sewing basics through hands-on experience. If you run into me in a misshapen dress, you'll know it's under way.

I probably have many more plans in my subconscious to carry out as soon as I finally feel "at home" somewhere. And I'll probably blog about them too ... or not.



It's a Cruel Summer

It's been years since I last went to the beach. I don't mean the occasional, full-dressed visit in which you stand at the water's edge and just breathe the salty breeze in, and talk about how pretty the water looks; or you just munch on a greasy fritter while contemplating pork's immortality ("contemplando la inmortalidad del marrano" is one of my favorite pastimes). I'm talking about the all-out, bikini-clad, sunscreen-stinking, sand-in-your-underwear, insecure-in-your-cellulite kind of visit. I haven't bathed in seawater since I got together with Eze. July 24, 2004 was the last day I went (to Playa Ballena, with Jorge Juan, to be exact). I spent all day thinking about the first kiss Eze gave me (the night before, while nursing a bad case of "drunk Diana"). A smile was permanently pasted on my face for the rest of the day. Maybe I would have dedicated a few more minutes to the water and the sand and the sun, had I known "being with Eze" would mean "you will never step toe on the beach again, missy!". ^_^ (I'm just kidding! I like teasing him that way)

We have a friend who's keen into internal tourism. He likes to spend weekends visiting places most Puerto Ricans take for granted. And he's been inviting us for a long time to join him in his trips. He's been wanting to go rappelling, something which Eze and I could marginally do given that the ropes don't break under the stress of our weight. Another thing our friend has suggested is kayaking at the bioluminescent bay in Fajardo. That's a night trip, that's what Eze calls a "boring" trip (mainly 'cuz he can't swim)... that's what I call "an offer I can't refuse". This is one thing I hope to be doing sometime this summer.

The other thing our friend has been insisting on is a trip to the beach. This vexes me a bit: my body is nowhere near "beach-ready". And I know I'll hear my friend's voice protesting because basically that would be product of one of my complexes. But let's talk truth here: my thighs are host to a valley of cellulite. Cellulite has invaded and conquered my thighs. And as much as I can hide and conceal this fact in my everyday clothes, that would be a no-can-do in a swimsuit or bikini. Which would leave me with two options:

1) Terrorize women and small children (plus gross out all those whose eyes are not tolerant of alternate realities to those sold by beer commercials)

2) Dress up in the boricua bestial makeshift beach-going attire par excellence: lycra biker shorts and a huge t-shirt. Which would make me incredibly ridiculous and would probably set a few individuals my way to ask for "el caldero de arroz con pollo" (the cauldron with rice and chicken).

I think I'll opt for #1 if we ever get to go to the beach again. At least people will recoil in horror and get away from me (i.e. leave me alone), instead of the other way around. ^_^


Take-off in July

(More information later on) ;-)