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)