Battlefields

Love is a battlefield, continued.

Battle 4, Scurvy: The Spanish have replaced all food groups with ham. Who needs fruit? We have ham. Who needs flavor? Just put some ham on it. Did you know that ham can be eaten for breakfast, lunch and dinner? Did you know that all condiments can be replaced with mayonnaise? Potatoes, fries, sandwiches, eggs, seafood, rice. They can all be dipped in mayonnaise. Lindsay and I were reduced to harvesting sangria for fruit in order to avoid scurvy and beriberi.


Battle 5, Black lung: Well, not really black lung since we were not coal mining, but second hand smoke didn't sound like a good battle name. Apparently, truth ads have not made it to Spain. How the Spanish live so long is beyond my comprehension. Restaurants and bars have cigarette vending machines so patrons can purchase cigarettes to go with their tapas, and by tapas I mean ham smothered in mayonnaise. Taking your infant child for a stroll? Here, take some Marlboro's with you.

Battle 6, AP-7: This was the toughest battle of them all. Blood was shed, tears were cried, lives were lost. Well, insect lives. Lindsay and I made it out alive, but dehydrated, bruised, and with calloused feet and a head rash. The Autopista del Mediterráneo was thisclose to killing us.

• Europcar gave us a Chevy clown car with as much power as a Vespa.
• The car had a manual transmission.
  
• The traffic control cops pulled us over and yelled at us.
• We had to pay a 29384729 dollar fee to pass through each city along the way.
• Gas came out to over 6 dollars a gallon.
  
• Food was scarce, and so was water.
• Circles of death. Turnabouts with 2 lanes and 8 unclearly marked turnoffs. Turn left, which one is left?
  

American casualties: one hairdryer, two bank accounts
Spanish casualties: one Chevy clutch, 86 various insects

Love is a Battlefield

What better way to celebrate the unity of Native Americans and Pilgrims than to go to the land of Christopher Columbus? Exactly, I couldn't think of anything better either. So I over-packed my suitcase, grabbed my hat and suckered Miss Mercer into accompanying me to España, or as the Americans like to call it, Spain. I guess we decided it was too hard to pronounce ñ.

Battle 1, Hostal Acapulco: We arrive after an overnight flight from JFK to MAD to find that we did not consider the flight as night one and had booked the hotel for the wrong day. Lindsay and I find ourselves homeless and exhausted. After getting the evil eye from the receptionist, we checked out the building for other available rooms and found a nameless guest bedroom with an owner who did not habla inglés. Using my Spanish vocabulary that is equivalent to that of a 3-year-old, I got us a room for 40 euros.

Battle 2, Chocolate soup: Weather.com told Lindsay that Spain is 65 degrees. Spain is, in reality, not 65 degrees. A quick stroll through Madrid and the Royal Palace left us cold and hungry so we sat down for some té time. We had our hearts set on some good ol' fashioned green té until I came across chocolate on the menu underneath the coffee section. In my experience, when chocolate is in a coffee menu, it is most likely some nice Swiss Miss hot cocoa. We'll take two please. No. Not in Spain. Do not be fooled by false promises of nice liquidy hot cocoa. Do not be fooled when the server assures you it is a chocolate drink with milk. It is not. It is chocolate pudding melted into the consistency of soup. Resist the temptation. Even when they offer you churros for the dipping. Even when you use the salted nuts to turn it into fondue. Resist.


Battle 3, AVE: The high speed train of Spain. We had plans to take this train from Madrid down to Granada. It cost a bundle and takes 4 hours, but I'm told it's the best way to travel long distances in Europe. That is, until your Spanish skills from 10th grade lead you astray. I heard "cambiar" and "Granada," but I did not hear the "no." Not even when she said it English. They were doing construction on the tracks so people going to Granada, i.e. us, were suppose to stay on the train while people going to Ronda and some other place needed to transfer at Antequerra. We got off the train in Antequerra, otherwise known as, 100 km away from our destination. After being looked at like idiots by every train employee, none of which spoke English, and overhearing them all on the phone saying "... these girls got off the train at the wrong stop," they called us a taxi and sent us on our way. They were even nice enough to pay for our taxi ride.

Join me mañana as the war against Spain continues in the battle of Tarragona, getting angler fished by the AP-7, and avoiding scurvy, the black lung and clogged arteries.

Universal Health Care

The United States is the ONLY industrialized country that does not provide universal health care. Yes, even in some developing countries, government-funded programs offer medical, dental and mental health care to all eligible residents. This means that there are people in third world countries who have a better health plan than I do, as I do not have dental. I pay 1200 American dollars a year to not have dental.

Since it would be a waste of money to not take advantage of this amazing NYU sponsored health plan, I go to health services about once a month. I figure that comes out to about $100 a visit. I am still not getting my money's worth here, so maybe I should go skiing. I was always jealous of those kids who came back from spring break with cool injuries. You would think, as much as I fall, I would have broken something by now.

I recently diagnosed myself with tinea versicolor. It's like dandruff, but not on your head. Most commonly found on your chest and back, it is associated with hot, humid climates... and tanning. I am probably victim to the latter. I have a dime-sized circular patch of tanless skin on my shoulder and a slightly larger, nickel-sized dot on my chest. My skin has lost it's ability to produce color. How ironic. Treatment for tinea versicolor is simply to use an antidandruff shampoo like Head and Shoulders or Selsun Blue. Just to make sure this is what I had before I started my own home remedies, I went in to primary care to have it checked out.

It took about 4 seconds for the doctor to say, "Yep, you have tinea versicolor." I was told to stay out of the sun and use antidandruff shampoo. Staying out of the sun will definitley not be a problem, winter has come early this year. So far, my healthcare plan has been useless to me. I got a referral to see the dermatologist if my problem persists and I was given a depression questionaire. Ten minutes later, I have 10 sessions with the mental wellness counselor booked to help with my coping strategies. After another look at my records, I was asked to hop on the examination table for my temperature and blood pressure because the doctor thinks that the nurse who took my stats earlier might have made a mistake. Nope. No mistake. I have high blood pressure.

I am 24-years-old, I go to the gym four times a week, I do not smoke, I do not drink and I do not eat red meat. I have not had a hamburger in 10 years, I don't remember what soda tastes like, and I have high blood pressure. This probably explains my chest pain, irregular heartrate, tiredness and why occasionally my right eye has not been able to focus. Just another thing I can thank my dad for passing on to me. Thank you, dad, for the large calves that I cannot fit into skinny jeans or boots, thank you for the diabetes and the high blood pressure, and thank you for taking me to Chuck E Cheese and telling me it was Disneyland. Yes, I am still angry about that.

So to celebrate my skin fungus, lack of coping skills and hypertension, I ate 3 rolls of sushi and went to Urban Outfitters. I had a great day.

Time Traveling

In New York, they show these commercials for tourism to Williamsburg, VA, where one can explore the "new world" of early settlers and learn about the Revolutionary War, democracy, and the definition of the phrase "tourist trap." All those happy American families running around smiling and doing cartwheels convinced me to go and explore Colonial Williamsburg to see what all the hype was about.

All the shops sell the exact same items and all the "historical" houses are newer then the building I live in. They only claim to be on the original foundation, so basically, the whole town was built so they can charge a 35 dollar entrance fee. I suggest moving through the sites quickly and then head over to the museum. Definitely worth spending a couple hours there. Also not to miss is the Peanut Butter shop. Yum.

Home is where the heart is.

Things you learn when you live away from home, wherever that may be:

1. To do your own nails. There's no point in paying an asian lady for a pedicure when you can invest some quality alone time on your nails. In the long run, this is more sanitary and affordable.

2. The internet is your best friend. Invest in a good internet connection for emails, movies/shows, instant messaging, video chatting and web browsing. This is the best way to keep in touch with busy, faraway friends in different time zones.

3. You need a pet, or a plant. Research shows that individuals who feel needed are happier. It is human to feel the need to care for something, it makes you feel better.

4. Collect take out menus for all neighborhood restaurants, especially the ones that deliver. Cooking for one is just pointless. You end up with economy-sized leftovers and eat the same meal for the entire week.

5. It's ok to go out by yourself. Everything you can do with someone else, you can do by yourself. Go to the movies, go shopping, take a walk, read a book at the park, go to the beach, eat out.

6. To write letters, the old-fashioned way. When was the last time you found something handwritten in your mailbox?

Nylon

Great people get bridges named after them. Tappan is named after the bridge. Last week, Mr. Tappan Zee bought a 2003 Honda Civic Hybrid autographed by the Terminator. It was auctioned on eBay in order to help with the California debt (I think). So when I was asked to drive this piece of history to South Pasadena, I just couldn't say no. So I had my mom take me to our fine state's capital to pick up this work of art and drive it 500 miles to bring it to him.

On another note, my sister came home from her first week of college wearing these:

These are the reactions of family members and friends:

Mom - I have to put my sunglasses on.

Peter - Did you spray paint your shoes?

My sister's response - They're Nylon! Limited edition!

Peter - Did you buy those from Dr. Suess?
My dad's reaction - Those are blue.

Way to state the obvious, Dad.

This is what her tuition money was spent on.

An online survey yielded the following reactions:
Lindsay - Those are hideous.
How much does one pay for those god awful things?
Jillian - Those. are. ugly. So. ugly.
Kevin - I used to have shoes like that.
Really?

If you're tired, you take a napa.

Hunter Valley vs. Napa Valley

Accessibility - It takes about 2 hours to drive from Sydney to Hunter Valley and 1.5 hours to drive from San Jose to Napa. If you leave from San Francisco, it takes even less. So considering Napa's proximity to a major metropolitan area and I get to drive on the right side of the road to get there, this one goes to Napa.

People you meet - Steve and his technicolor jacket dominate this category. Napa Valley wineries, especially the big ones, employ people who can only be describe as snooty. They were also kinda lame. If I'm drunk and bored, we have a problem. In addition, my mother and I were accosted by a crackhead in Napa. One point, Hunter.

Price - Hunter Valley is free, they just hope that you buy wine. Napa Valley, on the other hand, charges 5-30 dollars to taste, and they still give you a dirty look if you don't buy anything. They also charge for "tours" of the winery. Seriously? Gary and Steve showed us their wine cellars for free. Hunter 2, Napa 1.

Food - In addition to being over the top, Napa knows how to cater to tourism. This includes overpriced restaurants and shops. With the abundance of cheese shops and entire stores devoted to olive oil, I might have to give this one to Napa. However, Hunter is home to this gelato shop:

I'm going to have to call this one a draw.

Wine: Wine is wine. Plus one for both valleys.

So let's recap, wine is good, technicolor jackets are good, Hunter Valley > Napa Valley, and gelato is Australian for delicious ice cream. Best Napa Winery is a tie between Castello di Amorosa for the awesome castle and Silverado Vineyards, where the lady was nice, the wine was good and the view was breathtaking. Now I have one week to drink the 8 bottles of wine that I bought before I leave for New York.

Gnocchi

JetStar: You can travel around Australia on Jetsaver Light tickets for about 35 US dollars a trip. You don't get to check in any luggage and it's $80 if you do. They do not feed you or give you water. Tent pegs cannot be carried onto the aircraft as they can be used as a weapon. They do not check ID, they barely even check tickets. Liquids of any size can be carried on.

Byron Bay

Cape Byron: Typical Australian beach town and home of Australia's most easterly point. There's a cool lighthouse, good food and really annoying Aussie teenagers.

The Arts Factory: Canadian chick at reception thinks she's cooler than she really is. I didn't know it was possible for someone to be nice and bitchy simultaneously. This place is hippee haven. Their cafe food is reasonably priced and kicks ass. The first 3 rows at the cinema are cow print lounge couches where you get to lie down with a teddy bear to watch the one movie they play once a night. The shuttle drops off in front of Noodle Box and picks up in front of the train tracks.

Gold Coast

Surfers Paradise: Looks just like mainstream America with too many chain restaurants and high-rise hotels. Everything closes at 5:30pm so if you plan on eating dinner, go early.

Aquarius: British chick at reception needs longer shirts. Can't understand a word she says. They advertise a $2 breakfast deal, but you have to tell them the night before so they can actually go and buy toast.

Dreamworld: Rollercoasters make me vomit.

White Water World: Best water park ever, but only because I was the only one there. There were more employees than there were park goers. Take the theme park express bus from Gold Coast to any of the 4 parks for only 6 Australian dollars. No need for a shuttle if you want to save a couple dollars.

Rainbow Beach

Debbie's place is a steal. Quality room for a good price, but you have to stay two consecutive nights or there's a 20 dollar cleaning fee. Debbie herself is a crazy lady who drives like a maniac. She will take you to the beach or drop you off at the sandblow, but be prepared to jump and roll because she will not stop the car. Fantastic stretch of beach with colorful sand, but watch out for the 4WD vehicles.

Fraser Island

Tours to Fraser Island leave from Rainbow Beach or Hervey Bay. The Eurong Beach Resort serves a lot of cold pasta and cold rosemary chicken. The rooms look like hospitals in third world countries. Watch out for dingos and even more 4WD Toyotas. Largest sand island in the world with a cool shipwreck that's a huge tourist attraction.

Noosa

Noosa is the La Jolla Village of Australia. Fancy restaurants, old rich couples in perfectly tailored white pants, and a Sheraton hotel. Turkey looking fowls run rampant and a river runs through it. If you are on a budget, but require to stay on Hastings St., see John and Mary at the Noosa Village Motel. Pumpkin gnocchi is delicious.

Greg sings in the shower.

Because I haven't seen the Opera House from every angle imaginable, this is what it looks like from the Harbour Bridge. My computer likes to red underline the word Harbour. It wants me to write HarBOR. I spend the night looking for ledges in order to take long exposure shots, so is the story of my life. Trying to hold your hand perfectly still for 3.5 seconds is harder than it sounds.

From Milson's point, you can look back at South Sydney (Glory Glory to it). This skyline is not quite as iconic as New York City, but I think it's way more colorful (colOURful).

And this brings us to Luna Park, located at Milson's Point. For 25 dollars you can get unlimited rides after 5pm on Friday nights. Apparently, every annoying, bratty teenager in Sydney also got this memo. Since I don't get off of work until 7pm on Fridays, this gives me (and my boyfriend) only 2 hours to fight past 16 year-old Australians and make the most of Friday Night Lunacy.

Barrels of Fun = not fun. Possibly the scariest ride at Luna Park/Coney Island and it's not even a ride. Since I tend to fall walking on flat ground, I should've known better. I did fine until the second barrel, where it changed directions. My brain does not work fast enough to adapt to this change. Never have I felt more like a hamster.

Gigantic Slides = fun. I used to love these things as a kid. It's the one where you sit with your feet in those potato sacks and the guy at the top is supposed push you when it's your turn to go. This guy did not push. I sat, I waited, turned and looked at him, and then scooted my bum onto the slide.

Devil's Drop Giant Slide = steeper version of Gigantic Slide.

Wild Mouse = omg, I am going to fall off. This is where you go if you want a picture of you on a roller coaster with the Harbour Bridge in the background.

Dodgem City = bumper cars are classic.

Ranger = upside down pirate ship ride. I'm really glad I skipped lunch that day.

Ferris Wheel = another classic.

Carousel = mostly horses, but every carousel throws in the random animal. This particular one had a couple turkeys.

Backdoor, please.

I traded in my California drivers license for a MetroCard, then I traded in my MetroCard for a Blue TravelTen Pass.  I learned about different modes of transportation in kindergarten.  At 24, I can finally put my knowledge to good use. 

The bus drivers here have no mercy.  Pedestrians do not have the right of way.  The bus will not stop or slow for jaywalkers.  You better run your bum across the street.  Bus stops are abundant; sometimes there are 2 or 3 of them on the same block.  This may sound convenient when you walk out of a bar on Oxford Street and the bus stop is always right out front, but really...  If I can see the next 4 bus stops from where I'm standing, they are too close.  Why can't people just walk so that the bus doesn't have the stop every 20 feet and I don't feel nauseated after every bus ride?  

Bus riding how-to:  

1.  Find bus stop.  This is usually marked by a yellow sign depicting a man getting on a bus next to a bench that does not face the street.  Why?  I don't know, but how am I suppose to see the bus coming if my back is to the street?  Not facing the street makes it rather difficult to perform step two.

2.  Signal bus driver.  If you do not flag down the bus driver, he will not stop.  If the bus driver does not see your frantic waving, he will not stop.  If the bus has more than 15 standing passengers already on the bus, he will not stop.  

3.  Swipe bus pass.  Some stops and most buses will allow you to buy tickets on the bus, but you should get a bus pass just to be on the safe side.  It saves you money.  Ten rides for the price of eight.  The blue pass is cheaper than the brownish one, but you're only allowed to travel for two sections.  If they catch you, it's a $100 fine.  I have been doing it for 2 months and have not been caught.  I ride the whole route, that's like, 6 sections.  I'm an American, I don't know any better.

4.  Find a seat.  Depending on what time of day it is, different problems can present itself and you have to make this decision quickly or you will fall.  Did I mention the bus drivers drive like maniacs?  Start, stop, start, stop, start, abrupt stop, fall.  I need a seat belt and a barf bag.  My knee is bruised from sliding forward in my seat and hitting the seat in front of me.  Most people tend to sit where there are two empty seats.  If all the rows are taken, you have to quickly assess the passengers and grab a seat next to the least creepiest person.  

5.  Ring the bell.  The bus will not tell you where it is and there are no signs to tell you where you are.  It is up to you to know when you need to get off.  This doesn't sound so bad unless you don't know where the hell you're going.  Your friend tells you, "Get off at Palmer Street", but where the hell is Palmer Street!?  How do I know when I am there?  

6.  Get off the bus.  Hopefully, you have arrived at the correct destination.  If not, I hope you have your walking shoes on.  Most people thank the bus driver as they get off.  Sometimes you have to yell "backdoor!" or the backdoor of the bus will not open for you to get off.  That's what she said.  

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

I travel the world and sell lingerie. It's a safe bet that there are people on at least 4 continents in 20 different countries wearing a bra I sold them. I have always wanted to make a difference. I guess we all start somewhere.

No, I'm not Canadian... and no, I won't grab drinks with you just because we are from the same country. There are 300 million other Americans on the planet, go get drinks with them.

Google map says that I need to kayak across the Pacific Ocean to get home. My 20 dollar mascara costs 50 dollars here. No wonder I make 20.25 an hour. Public transportation makes my head hurt. The bus driver on the 378 from Bronte to Railway So. is on a mission to put everyone in a neck brace. I travel 5 sections on a bus ticket for 2. I save my pennies for overpriced makeup and a plane ticket back to New York. I want to stay put for awhile just so I don't have to pack anymore. Apparently, my American (Californian?) accent is very "heavy"? It's hard to tell if people down here like us, hate us, or just don't care.

There's something therapeutic about writing, even if it is just ranting that only 3 people follow. I took a ferry across the harbour. Wind rages through my hair, too. If I had one wish, I would put the following cities within driving distance: Toronto, Chicago, New York, Sydney, Salt Lake City, South Pasadena, San Jose, San Diego, San Francisco and Irvine... and if I had my way, I would hug you all the time.

<3

Where am I going and why am I in a handbasket?

Things I cannot find in Sydney:

toilet seat covers -- If you value toilet seat covers, don't leave California.  

heated apartments -- It is colder inside than it is outside.  

trash cans -- I walk around with trash in my purse until I get home.  

bus maps -- Just get on a bus and hope for the best.  

cinnamon french toast -- 23847192 types of bread and not a single one for french toast.

turkey and avocado on sourdough -- I just want a sandwich... Is it too much to ask for?

buffalo wings -- Yesterday, someone asked me what a buffalo wing was.

Reese's Peanut Butter Cups -- someone send me some.  

Urban Outfitters -- where do all the hipster indie kids shop?

orange chicken -- buy lemon chicken and ask for orange sauce.

ranch dressing -- my pizza is lonely without it.  

Trader Joe's -- where am I suppose to find chocolate covered peanut butter filled salted pretzels?

fontina cheese -- we needed this for Stefano's chicken medallion.  

peanut butter M&Ms -- however, mint M&Ms are abundant. 

corn tortillas -- fish tacos are also non-existent.  

shaving cream -- Skintimate? or not.

Gözleme

A Gözleme is a quesadilla without the mexican.

Week two in Sydney:

Over sleeping

Getting lost

Vivid Lights

New people

I need a tripod.

Beyond the Sea

Week one in Sydney:

Sleeping in

Eating out

Cloud watching

Job searching

My feet hurt.

Your Wedding

On set.

Angels in the outfield.

I was heading to Ikea with Savannah during my day in Orange County. We passed by Angels Stadium and saw that a game was starting. Between curtains at Ikea and a Mariners v Angels game, the choice was clear. Greg came too. Photo by G. Smith. I forgot my camera.

Giants in the outfield.

What's the matter with Schafer!?  

He's a bum!

Long distance is the wrong distance.

In the age of iPods, iPhones and MacBooks, outlets are a hot commodity at the airport. If you get lucky, you will even get to see people fight over the only outlet at Gate C10.

After 3 hours of last minute packing, I manage to get all my boots and hair products into a rolling duffle, a 25-inch suitcase, a purse, a backpack, and a carryon.  All except one boot.  Not a pair of boots, just one boot.  So I open every bag trying to rearrange items in order to stuff this one boot in without smashing any shampoo bottles.

Apparently, a Google search for “yellow cab” won’t show up a phone number for a yellow cab. They don’t want to come to Brooklyn anyway, so limo service it is.  So I get a phone call from the car service at 1pm, my car has arrived.  I go outside and my car is around the corner, next to the car is a girl listening to her iPod.  She doesn’t look like a driver, but she is standing by my car so I ask, “Are you my driver?”  In some sort of confused excitement, she says yes.  So she follows me into my apartment and I give her one of my bags to carry.  She looks at me with bewildered eyes.  Definitely not my driver. I somehow managed to pick up some random girl off the street. 

United charges $15 for your first checked bag, $40 for two bags.  Checking bags cost half my plane ticket.  Checked bags must be less then 50 lbs.  I sit at the airport for 20 minutes repacking my bags.  Twice. 

At the security gate, I am stopped by the security guard. 
“Excuse me miss, you have three bags.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.  One, two, three.”
“Yes, but I’m smaller then the average American traveller.  My backpack doesn’t count.”
“Go check one of your bags or make them two bags.”
Humour me.  Note the “u” for good measure. 
Repacking at the airport for the third time.  So far, I am not a fan of LaGuardia airport. 

I also think that airlines should charge plane fares by weight.  It's not fair that I pay the same amount to fly as someone who weighs 250 pounds. 

...brings May flowers.

And these guys.

Just in case you were wondering what New York looks like in the spring.

Click on images for a full sized effect. Note the the guy on the left with leathered man-boobs.

My life in boxes.

This summer, I will have belongings scattered across the globe.  My winter wardrobe will reside in New Jersey, my furniture in Brooklyn, my surfboard awaits my return in Poway, my nonessentials, car, cat, and half my wardrobe rests in San Jose, while I and my portable wardrobe will roam the eastern suburbs of Sydney, and I think I might still have stuff in San Diego and/or South Pasadena.  Thank you friends and family for letting me use your basement/garage/closet for storage.  One day, I'll have a home where all my belongings will reunite and I'll invite you all over for dinner. 

Strawberry Fest

In celebration of my favorite fruit...

...this is New York's longest strawberry shortcake.  It was delicious.  I forgot my camera and had to rely on the camera phone.  I sat and ate all my strawberry themed goodies on a bench in Washington Square Park.  A feather floated down in front of me and my friend exclaimed, "Forrest Gump!!!"  and then a bird pooped on her.  It was poetic.  

She still lives in Brooklyn.

The Alligator Lounge on Metropolitan gives you a free pizza with every beer.  If you order a Bud Light, this comes out to 4 dollars, plus tip.

I spent 20 minutes at 3am Wednesday night looking for someone's tooth on Leonard Street.  We found the tooth, he put it back in his mouth after we picked it up from the sidewalk.

The sushi chef at Wasabi on Bedford Ave is awesome.  He makes me custom plates and doesn't charge me for them.

The Korean laundromat on Metropolitan has shitty dryers.  They are open 24 hours.  The people there suck.

Settepani on Lorimer has the best butter cookies.  They will cost you 16 dollars a pound.

The Bagel Store on Bedford Ave and N 3rd has cannoli cream cheese with white chocolate chips.

I took a train to Long Island and found myself in the east coast version of San Jose.  I think dreams have died there, too.  

Dreams have died here.

In the words of a wise man, Coney Island is where dreams go to die.  

The hot dog line was 2 hours long, I saw a man eat leftover ice cream out of the trash, the Freak Show was closed, the beach had a fake plastic palm tree, the broken sink had a sign that read "Don't work".  

The City Sparkles

As April rolls around, I am heading into my fourth full month in New York. I'm starting to get into the flow of things.  I have a weekly routine that consist mostly of writing papers and going to work.  Frequent visitors gets me out to do touristy things that I would otherwise miss.  

I finally made it out to get the view of the skyline that I have been dying to shoot since I moved here.  My lack of a tripod has prevented me from doing this at night and it really hasn't been clear enough to get.  Fellow Pad Squad and Aztec, Jeff, was also dying to get this view, so we headed out there our first night.  Of course, it was cold and rainy and all our pictures came out fuzzy and gray.  After the unfortunate outcome of the NIT semifinals game at Madison Square Garden where the Aztecs lost to Baylor, we went back to Empire Fulton-Ferry State Park along with a friend Jeff made on the subway.  (Who is Baylor anyway?  Has anyone heard of them before last night?)  With Jeff's gorillapod that looks like some sort of sex toy, we managed to get some decent shots of the Brooklyn Bridge and the Manhattan Bridge.  It was much clearer the second night, I even saw a star or two, but it might have been airplanes.  I can't even distinguish between them at this point.  

Jeff and his gorillapod will also be in Australia this summer.  Sparkling photos of the Sydney skyline to come.  

23

On the eve of my 24th birthday, I have decided to set some new goals for myself.  There were a lot of things I was hoping to have accomplished for myself by now, but I've gotten a little off track.  All for the best, but I still have a few things I would like to see happen by the time I'm.... let's give myself 3 years from today.  At the age of 27, I would like to have done the following:

1.  Finish school.  

2.  Find a real job.

2b.  Get out of debt, excluding students loans, which I will not be able to pay off until I'm 50.

3.  Maintain a healthy relationship.

3b.  Be able to say the word relationship without cringing. 

4.  Have my own apartment.

5.  Find a place to call home.

Let the Sun Shine In

I just had my first official New York visitor last weekend. Seriously, I'll have more visitors in one semester here than I had the entire 5 years I was in San Diego.  As an early birthday present, Jill braved the cold and packed her rain boots... and everything else in her closet.  Lucky for us, Friday was the warmest day it has been in months.  The weekend consisted of a lot of sushi eating, a failed attempt to go to Connecticut, Sex and the City sites, Bedford Ave., West Village, Marc Jacobs, Washington Square, the bathroom at the Westin, Times Square, an off-Broadway murder mystery, Hair the musical, and devouring apple cobbler at the Hard Rock.  

First of all, I would like to say that I am not the best New York hostess.  I will get you lost, I will make you walk a lot, and if you don't like sushi or Thai food, you're screwed.  Broadway musicals are awesome.  I heart my bạn gái.  

新年快乐

Today is Chinese New Year, and it's 4707, the year of the Ox.  Happy New Year, everyone!  Don't forget to pray to Buddha.