Christmas nostalgia

The sight of the Met's Christmas Tree, the choir fence in the Medieval Hall, and an a cappella concert by the wonderous, amazing Chanticleer (which is the closest thing to a 6 foot fully-grown-men's answer to the Vienna Boy's Choir, btw) brought back warm and fuzzy festive memories of yore. "In the bleak mid-winter", "O little town of Bethlehem" and all this choir business hurls back long forgotten CLC memories: Carol Prac's for the annual Christmas concerts, Pip & Jims, Christmas crackers, House prizes (I won the Deportment Prize in 1's, and the Tidiness Prize in 5's - already a Martha Stewart in the making...), mulled wine, end-of-term prayers and blazers, and Mrs. L-G, my housemistress back in Slodge. At the time, she was my biggest problem with authority. Looking back, she was perhaps the coolest housemistress out of the whole stuffy lot: she organized house outtings to ice rinks, ballet, Shakespeare plays, Alton Tower trips, countryside walks with her slobbery sheep dog Prima; she'd do coffee with 5's after church, talk about family and how we're getting on in school - but all this was not appreciated until much later.

Mrs. L-G, wherever you are now, I hope you are doing well. Thanks for trying to shape us lot into forward-thinking women.

Random point of art historical interest

Learn a few weeks ago that the Director of the Met, is in fact, a proud descendent of Marquis de Sade. (As in, the 18th C French nobleman who put the "sad-" in sadism - half of sadomasochism, more commonly known to Hongkies as SM) Word amongst employees is that he likes to see naked ladies in in-house video productions. Hmm....

Which reminded me of the Guerilla Girls from the 1980's. Thirty years of Feminism and twenty years of high-profile pranks later, the art world still hasn't changed all that much in terms of its male-female ratio. Even now, with equal educational opportunities, the museum / gallery / rock-star-artist realms are still dominated by white men. What is going on?

To write or not to write...

It's occurred to me that my blogging has become a lot more self-centred and uninspired since I left school. What happened? Have I stopped being interesting all together? Or am I just too busy and happy to write anything meaningful anymore? Perhaps the killer combination of pausing my globe-trotting, and the day-to-day repetition at work, is what sent my inspiration down the toilet.

For now, until I have anything substancial and deep to say, me think I'll keep my mitts off Blogger. Meanwhile, the photoblog will still be updated, for a picture says more than a thousand words on my museum-worker / sedentary slacker life.

Back with a Bang!!

Am funky, alive, and.... 25. Sheesh. When your mother addresses you as a "thousand-year-old egg" in her e-mails, you know you can be officially deemed ancient.

Have finally received new, shiny laptop with new, shiny 14" 16:9 widescreen, and am still learning which of its new, shiny buttons does what.

Absence:

Have just learnt from the laptop repairers , after paying $80 for an initial diagnosis, that the motherboard on my laptop is a gonner. Since IM-ing or blogging on the computer at work seems inappropriate corporate behaviour, I will be away from the cybersphere indefinitely for the time being.

Until someone decides to a) give me a new laptop; b) volunteer to fix mine up for me =p

In other news, in the past few weeks I've been drifting off to the historical gay mecca of Fire Island, Philly, Boston. Have also learnt on the job to rip DVDs. Hurrah to museum educational media!! Who would have thought I'd learn all about digital piracy from such a decorous cultural institution? ;)

Imminent digital death

...as the power jack to the motherboard of my laptop seems to be dying. What am I to do without my entertaining, brain-cell-zapping blackholes of time? (AKA ICQ + AIM + e-mail + eBay + blogging + Flickr) *horror* The thing is, getting my laptop serviced here will prolly set me back 1/3 of my meagre salary, seeing how they might have to ship parts from outside the States, as my laptop was bought in HK. The cost-benefit here is a bit of a brain-wrecking dilemma-

In other news, my face is supposed to be aired on NY-area CBS, whenever prime time paid-commercials are NOT on. If you're lucky, you'd prolly catch a glimpse of me smiling fakely like a maniac a la Daniel Whatshisface in the Harry Potter movies.

Am seriously considering taking up yoga, or some form of non-intense indoor exercise involving mats. Have turned into a shapeless blob with a growing midriff and diminishing immunity powers since I started working in a windowless basement office. Should it be Bikram (the sweaty kind) or Ashtanga (the high maint muscle building kind)? Am clueless when it comes to workouts and physique maintenance. The ideal person to ask would be my ex, since he's the hardcore yogi, but then I would have to speak to him. Catch 22 indeed. Will prolly try it out at one of the free sessions in Bryant Park first.

Down with flu:

The sub-zero office AC has finally taken its toll. Maybe it's the meatlocker cold, maybe it's povery-inflicted malnutrition, maybe it's my Norma-no-mate loneliness, anyway my immunity caved in at the beginning of the week. First it was pains and aches in strange places (Armpit? What am I supposed to make of that? Breast cancer? When I have no boobs to speak off?), then it was the constant chills (Who wears a down vest to bed on a 25'C night?) Last night was spent curled up in bed in some quasi-foetal double-bent position, watching Team America: World Police, so I could be distracted from my aching bowels.

I now feel better, but am also restricted to a 4 block radius of my apt, for fear of fainting in public places (like the filthy NYC Subway, god forbid) sans medical insurance. As a 13th-hour measure I finally submitted the application paperwork for low-income health insurance, so hopefully I won't be in such a position ever again. *sigh* the destituteness of art educators.... now I know why they call us "starving artists".

*Now the good news* - I made it into the final cut for the Tony Oursler installation's spot. [see 6/29 entry] Apparently Marketing decided I had trendy glasses, and that they will reach the right target audience (read: hipsters). The ad's supposed to air on NY-area CBS at some point... more details to follow.

London's burning

Shocked to hear that bombs went off in London Madrid-style this morning. Am worried for my high-school mates who are living / travelling there; the bizarre thing is, London seems disturbingly and relatively unfretted, according to Chezzz who is holidaying there at the moment. Could it be that Londoners have seen it all? Could it be that after the 2nd World War air raids, IRA bombings in late 80's and early 90's, Neo-Nazi's bombings in Brick Lane, Londoners might have actually developed some sort of emotional immunity to terrorism and mass destruction? Even though the scale of this attack is a fraction of 9-11th's, New Yorkers / Americans in general strike me as a whole lot more paranoid and panicky whenever alerts come up.

Dumped by boy and other misadventures on Manhattan

The former part is not as bad as the first time, but it still bites. Especially when he did it over e-mail. Where are thou manners, inferior homo sapien?

Besides that small glitch, had a brilliant July 4th weekend, eating, drinking, dancing and burning cash to oblivion. With Alex, a high school friend visiting from upstate, and Casta, my roomie visiting from New Jersey, it was one big happy sleepover at our tiny duplex.

The mad weekend started at Hotel Gansevoort, an uberhip boutique hotel in the Meatpacking District with Ono, a minimalist Japanese garden bar / restaurant, and a rooftop bar offering evening views of the East River.

Ono


Rooftop Bar

Was amazed at the speed at which roomies picked up men, and at the speed NYC men pick up ladies. Fleeting superficial encounters with lots of heavy flirting. Not my style at all, but interesting enough to observe and critique. We met two Italian stallions, one a lawyer representing fashion designers, and another dealing artisanal Italian furniture. Having just been dumped, I was in no mood to socialize, and excused myself from the party when my roomies decided to change quarters to Marquis.

Next morning I was rudely awakened by sounds of kissing; I knew Nat and Casta are buddies, but surely they can't be that close?! Then I hear some dude's voice. Fan-fucking-tastic. One of them brought some dude home. I proceed to pretend I don't know anything.

After Alex's arrival, she the foodie / nutritionist / gourmet chef-to-be introduced us to the joys of Brazilian-accented sushi at Shiki's Kitchen. Was cheap, was yummy, and I liked them sushi with bananas and mangos.

(to be continued)

Now that I actually have some form of life, I have no time to blog about it.
To summarise my past week, I've slap dashed together:

Flushing

- Got totally lost with Alice in my supposed culinary homeland, given it is the abyss of Chinese immigrants and therefore cheap authentic Chinese food. It really is a different planet once you leave the ickle island of Manhattan. A + I stuck out like sore thumbs on the 7 train, which took almost an hour to get from Grand Central to Flushing. Noted that dress size and men's smelliness / hair greasiness increased exponentially as distance from Manhattan increased.

- Live toads sold in a supermarket, also in Flushing. Not even in Hong Kong does moving food get so exotic. Being our whitewashed squeemish selves, A + I headed out of the supermarket in no time.

- Soy milk told in takeout plastic tubs. Hello?! Even bubble tea comes in insta-wrap cups... let's get into the 21st century people.

Laundry day blues

Discovered my building charges a murderous $2 per washer load, and $4 for each 1 hour dryer cycle (as supposed to 75 cents for anything back in my school days). And it's friggin' COIN-OP. How is anyone supposed to have $10 in quarters? To avoid being ripped off, I decided to make use of natural resources and take advantage of the hot summer sun. Which led me to hang laundry ghetto Chinese style - on the balcony, like old amahs do. Which led to my being gawked at by any posh Upper East Siders who looked up.
Thank god no one knows me around here. Yet.

Will be on TV!

Just came home from commercial shoot for the newish Tony Oursler video installation at the Met. Played dispensable cable wrangler / runner /extra, and was required to look amused / perplexed at a white blob that resembled "a bloody Mr. Potatohead" according to my colleague,

with silly voiceovers that said "Boom boom boom.... I will kill y'all..." in a demonic husky voice, and projections of endless explosions, flames and misplaced blinking eyes and mouth. Have to find out when / which station the ad will air on...

Scatter Brain-dead

~ Food-induced homesickness:
I am re-living summer '03, when I had the most fantastic time in Lucca, Italy, but missed home sorely as I couldn't find any Asian food whatsoever. Maybe it's just Upper East Side / the Met's neighbourhood, but where are all the cheapo Asian eateries and food trucks hiding? Even ghetto Hardford, Connecticut, where my bro lives and where there is absolutely no retail and no supermarkets in the city, has Vietnamese and Thai food trucks.
Chinatown is a good 25 min ride on the subway, but even the pickings there are slim - ie. I yet to find a good grocer / restaurant. Am determined to venture out to Flushing in Brooklyn, the massive and so-damn-far Asian immigrant enclave this weekend to find cheap authentic Chinese munches.

~ Have same glasses as boss:
My department supervisor just noted that she has the same glasses as me. I have purple ones, she has blue ones. I'm taking this as an auspicious omen that I will go far in the museum field =)

~ Goings on in the city:
Mental notes - the Renegade Craft Fair this weekend in Brooklyn, and the New York Asian Filmfest.
Must also exploit my employee ID at the following locations: Little Boy show @ Japan Society, Frick Collection, the Whitney, Cooper Hewitt Design Museum, all within a 1.5 mile radius of where I work.

First paycheck!

... and I haven't even officially started work yet. My life thus far consisted of:
1) lots and lots of in-house tours and lectures (that is, at the museum)
2) more visits to other museums
3) picnicking in the park for lunch / free opera(s)
4) unpacking boxes and assembling new furniture, thus acquiring countless number of bruises on me' shins in the process.

Once I finish setting up my 100 sq ft room, which is already beginning to take some groovy shape, I'd have the perfect compact room for summer chillin' in the city. :) Just got one of those seagrass beach mats from Chinatown for $3 too , and am looking forward to reading in the Park on summer nights...

v.v.v.v. busy

... setting up new life. Furniture costs burning a big fat ugly blackhole in my wallet. NYC crazy sweltering hot. Air conditioning in apartment not functionning as well as it should. Still living out of boxes and sleeping on the floor as I try to assemble furniture. But I love every bit of my job so far.

It's most likely because I'm still in Orientation, which is basically two weeks of behind-the-scenes tours, talks and lectures. NYC in the summer is also a 180-degree-flip from its norm, a bit like a city that's had a facelift: people actually smile, and I get to picnic in leafy Central Park everyday for lunch. Have also discovered a handy fact - my employee ID will now theoretically allow me free admission to all museums in the world, for the duration of my internship. A small perk as consolation to earning minimal wage and falling into the low income catagory :p

Chapter 4 : New York City

Another two weeks of haggling with movers and previous tenant of my tiny rented room, have moved belongings into apartment. Said previous tenant / stranger bitch still has her furniture in my room. Grrrr. What is wrong with people?

On an upside note, new roomie seems really nice, as are her familia. I just hope her cat, ironically named Angel, won't throw up randomly on my about-to-be-purchased carpets.

Abode settled

Finally got my housing situation sorted after 1.5 months of non-stop apartment hunting and far too many Chinatown bus trips to NYC. Going to sign my new pseudo-lease on Monday.
Will be sharing a duplex on East 88th with a 23 year old Dominican / Puerto Rican girl student, and a cat that alledgedly cries a lot at night when it gets hungry. At least I won't be living with a granny type!! *relief*

Wishful thinking

Dream job + Dream Man = too good to be true.

I was mistaken in thinking that my blank-as-a-sheet-of-paper love life, for once, would change for the better. I so should have seen this coming. *sssssiiiigh*

The side effect of romance

Am getting very accident-prone and breaking things left right and center. Should get my eyes checked out to see if I've been blinded by love, or what seems a lot like it.
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Housing search update

The Williamsburg, Brooklyn dream loft (see pix below) is simply too far from work. I love living in cool architectural environments, but I unfortunately love an extra hour of sleep in the morning waaay more. Will have to settle for a sublet room from a Brazilian granny in a luxury apartment building on the Upper East. *ssssiiiiigh*

The Mythical Holy Grail of NYC Living?!

After weeks and weeks of viewing crappy overpriced hole-in-the-wall-type so-called apartments, I come across this posting on Craig's List.

Rent is for $900 - $1200 per month!!! Is this guy for real?!!!

Puta...

Want to die after receiving the contract for the Met's internship. For a meagre salary of US$22,000 per annum, as per 50 35-hour work weeks, I receive:

- no health insurance
- no paid holidays
- no pension plan
- no housing assistance (!!!!)

Which basically makes NYC-living close to impossible, as my apartment search has revealed that I need to:

- have an annual salary 40 times my monthly rent [av. rent costs approx. $1000-$1400]
- or have a guarantor who lives in the Tri-State area who makes more than 80 times my monthly rent.

I might as well go live on the streets in a cardboard box. What oh what did I get myself into? WTF?! Even the MFA in Boston, a regional second-tier museum, offers better terms. Prestige doesn't feed empty wallets or stomachs.

Making "compact" living work for you

Another hurdle crops up after I clear my first towards ideal-living in NYC.
With a limited budget, and even more limited space, I need some serious inspiration for creating my dream pad in a shoebox. Apartment Therapy's Smallest Coolest Apartment Contest gives some great examples (and some mediocre ones too) of how real people (ie. non-interior-decorators-or-architects) make spaces work.

But before I even do any space-planning, I have to find a cheap studio / 1 BR in or around the Upper East Side / Astoria / Williamburg first. Guard your doors, landlords of rent-stabilized properties!

EMPLOYED AT LAST~~!!!!

HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED BY THE MET FOR THEIR 12 MONTH EDUCATIONAL MEDIA INTERNSHIP! Woohoo!!! *jumps around the house*

It's a huge relief to know that I am a worthy human being after all. Thank you everyone for your tremendous support over the past year. It's been very trying for my self-esteem. I've had good and bad working experiences, and I've learnt from all of them. Thank you to my mum and dad, my grandad, Uncle David, Uncle Steven, Uncle Peter, Auntie Linda, Lisa P., Fan and David for doing everything they can to help me out.

WKW Week

Been on a non-stop Wong Kar Wai binge this week, with Eros screening at Kendall and the big Retrospective at Brattle Cinema. Watched As Tears Go By 旺角卡門 on Sun, Eros 愛神 on Mon, then Fallen Angels 墮落天使 + Chungking Express 重慶森林 today.

The Hand, WKW's bit in the Eros trio of shorts was as gorgeous and lush as expected. As a spinoff of 2046, his signature 60's style and Chris Doyle's unmistakable palette is as consistent as the longer film. More physical and psychological clautrophobia, more covert desires, more unconsummated relationships. As always, the opulent cheongsams alone make paying to see the film on big screen worthwhile; on the curvaceous Gong Li those dresses can easily put many so-called couture designers to shame.

WKW's prolly going down in film history as the genius who makes even masturbation look divine. Before watching Fallen Angels and The Hand, I didn't realise how shockingly good WKW is at portraying explicit masturbation, without making it tacky. In The Hand, wanking a partner has never looked so poetically excruciating on screen: Gong Li's feathery touch sent tingles down MY spine, and Chang Chen's face looked like he was a mute being castrated. You can literally see the sweat droplets forming on his forehead - the man deserves an award just for those 30 seconds.

I wonder if WKW has worked unfulfilledness out of his system yet. Out of all his flicks, only Chungking Express and Happy Together have happy endings. Alienated urbanites deserve happiness too.

Cookie Monster to cut down on cookies?!

Man, that's just atrocious. All that low-carb nonsense has to come to a stop - what's the fun in gorging on fruits and veggies?

If it's fat kids you're trying to target, ditch MacD's, switch off the computers and TV's, kidnap them outdoors and make them throw frisbees and ball-shaped objects around. Denying any kid of their occasional cookie only creates grouchy sour pouts.

Unintentional sci-fi-comedie-noir in the kitchen:

Blue grey goo batter
Note to self: Do NOT use frozen blueberries for pancakes EVER AGAIN.
In a gleeful bout of euporia after a meeting with my freelance project bosses that went surprisingly well, I ambitiously decided to make blueberry pancakes, with a Food and Wine recipe that I had cut out at Yao's, at 6.30 pm as a late-brunch-carb reward to myself. I should have known better. Six months out of the kitchen, my hard-earned ingredient improvisation intuition and pancake-flipping skills simply vanished without a trace. Must hone my cooking fast, so that I can throw a big dinner party when I land a job and find an apartment of my own.


the benign intentions Vs. the extraterrestrial looking result
*sigh*
Actually, the results were suprisingly palatable. If you ignore their appearance.


The Attack of Intergalactic Space Turds

Will pimp for gainful employment

Booyakasha. It's truly bizarre how roller-coaster-up-down my days are becoming, depending on whether I hear anything from prospective employers. After days of fruitless electronic and telephonic harrassment to HR bods at Art + Auction and Christie's, I got an e-mail for an interview at.... THE MET! Repeat after self, must wow their pants off, must wow their pants off....

Bostonian sunrise:

Check out the amazing view at the fabulous (albeit temporary) pad. Too bad this place isn't mine. Am staying at Jess's while she works on a project in NYC. Thanks a tonne!

Pictorial Space

Decided to jump onto the donkey carts of Flickr, as Blogger's own Picasa is just a pain in the arse to use. The catch is that I'd have to pay to use their unlimited bandwidth version, and right now, I have no credit cards, as my one and only has been hacked and cancelled. Bummer.

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With luck like mine, it's only natural that the movies I've been wanting to see for the past six months only screen in HK AFTER I leave. Tony Takitani 東尼瀧谷, adapted from Haruki Murakami 村上春樹's short story of the same name, and Miyazaki's Howl's Moving Castle are gracing the screens of the HK International Film Festival. I couldn't even recognize Rie Miyazawa 宮澤理惠, the female star of Tony Takitani, who doesn't look at all bad for an 90's has-been.



Tony Takitani Official Site and Apple Japan Trailer

Eye candy for my daddy

Lovely curvy vintage motors from Ralph Lauren's personal collection at Speed, Style and Beauty exhibit at the MFA. Not a car buff myself, I didn't take notes on model numbers or anything, so just enjoy their shapes.

the Bentley Bowler. Love the big 8 at the front. Very Chinese.


A 1930's Alfa Romeo


Black Bugatti's from the 20's / 30's


a 1938 Black Bugatti. Buggie beauty indeed!
Will learn to drive when have enough $ for one of these.


A 1950's Mercedes Gullwing.
This was H's fave out of the whole show, for it had the perfect Gatsby-esque touches, caramel leather interior and luggage, silver-gold champagne exterior and all.


My fave. Jaguar in racing green. Loved the Art Deco streamlined insect look. The fin made it very Rocketman or Ultraman (aka Salty Egg Superman to us HKers.)


Another Jaguar beauty.


the 50's badass car - 1951 Porsche Spyder. James Dean died in one of these when he crashed his car. H noted that the interior finishes was left raw - no carpets, wood panelling etc. I liked the yacht-like steering wheel.


Another red Ferrari. H and I couldn't figure out what the coke-can looking things at the front were. Are they part of the engine?


Another red Ferrari. The slanted windows are cool.


A 1984 McLaren. The car has an unusal 3 seat arrangement - the driver seat with the steering wheel in the middle, slightly in front of the two passenger seats. Very 80's in that all out look-at-me way.