My memories of new york were that from the eyes of a 12 year old kid. i could still remember connecting the black sticky dots on the dirty pavement of downtown NYC, trying to create a constellation or something (those days i was dreaming of becoming an astronaut more than wanting to be a doctor), only realizing, after my mom’s friend told me, nonchalantly, that they were actually chewed gum that stuck to the ground after being spat and stepped on numerous times. I didn’t know how to react then - i wanted drown myself in alcohol but didn’t want to destroy my shoes. It was disaster. I overreacted but couldn’t get over the idea that NYC was everything filthy… but now, with full knowledge of NYC’s history (from the movie Gangs of New York haha), and fully aware of the must-see’s of the busiest city of America, i come back 16 years later, with one goal in mind - live out the true definition of a New Yorker…in style of course, despite the filth - literally or otherwise.

As i sit here on the cozy couch of my sister Karen’s apartment in uptown manhattan, witnessing, for the the first time in my life, snowflakes pouring heavily outside the window (pathetic diba?), with forecast of sleet later in the day; snow covering the entire playground and visibility down to zero, i felt excitement. I am in a city that never sleeps, in a place where i can be a gossip girl, strut like one of the sex in the city ladies, pretend that i know the place where heath ledger died and dismissing it like it was just around the corner, cheer for NY giants even if i couldn’t care less that they just won the superbowl in what they would apparently call the greatest game in the history (umm..i dont even know how to watch football..was it football ba? haha), eat NY pizza and cheesecakes, speak english with a swagger of an african american from Harlem or Bronx, pretend that i was so affected by the WTC bombing with tears staining my eyes, and chew and spit  gum on the ground - not caring if some 12 year kid would try to connect the gum i just spat out to a constellation she was trying to create. I am a jaded New yorker…wannabe…

My first day in new york, i gave my sister a headache. I told her i wanted to ride the famed subway that had been a target by god knows whatever. I told her, in my most arrogant voice, with the african american swagger that my brother taught be before i left manila, "Yo, i’m riding that subway to times square on my own…you know what im saying?!" hahah! With eyes so wide, she gave me the weirdest look, like i grew another head or something. I’m the last person to ride a public transportation alone. I’m stupid. I get lost despite the map. it didn’t help that the subway i always had in mind was spot clean, was actually filthy, wreaking with dried urine and canal water, and with rats as big as cats running around. It was hell. If it wasn’t for the experience, and my stupid arrogance of living out the "i’m a new yorker…yeah baby!", i wouldn’t even attempt to try to experience riding their MTA. But as i said, got to have the experience…before the bragging rights.

I survived the subway after being squished between two giant men in dreadlocks and earphones blasting the tunes of Sean Paul while their heads were bobbing in and out like ducks. It was one thing to deal with jologs back home. It’s another thing to deal with…i don’t even know what to call them…hippies? I dunno…well more like i didn’t wanna waste my time trying to figure out what to call them. I’m just too caught up with the idea of being in times square - the heart of NYC.

Times Square. Broadway Avenue. 42nd street. A place where everybody wants to be in, where everybody wants to be somebody. It’s the ultimate playground for the adults. The lights are on 24/7, and everyday feels like friday. I was strolling, literally, along the 42nd street, in the sea of rushing new yorkers, unmindful of the loud grunts and jeers for me to walk faster - i was simply too engrossed looking at the bright lights, like a kid visiting the disneyworld for the first time. I would ask my sister to take a photo of me everywhere. So much for the new yorker attitude. i turned probinsyana in 1 day. "karen picture mo ako here…dito din! teka teka wait, u have to take my picture when the budweiser beer comes on the screen of times square." I drove her crazy. She wanted to throttle me right that instant, but also couldn’t stifle a laugh. Being the good sister that she is, she did indulge me eventually by taking my photo on every corner, as stupid as we might have probably appeared. I really didn’t care anymore. I just wanted to have fun…with all the documentations of course. That’s how i am - an obsessive compulsive keepsake keeper.

Ahh…travelling. It’s food for my soul - probably because i could just blend in the background, and watch everything unfold in front of me, like watching broadway. Being in a foreign place where my identity (and my color, appearance, heritage, social status, etc) matters to no one, where i can act stupidly and just laugh at myself; where the opinions of the people don’t really matter; where my life is not confined to the restrictions that has me chained at the neck by what i would have to call traditions that i have to stick to, being born to the situation that i live in; where i can be somebody i’m not. I would always camouflage as a local, act like them and enjoy the way people would react to me. It’s always a game i love to play. It feeds my spirit.

I plan to write a series of blogs while staying here in NY, just to share my thoughts. I got this inspiration from happyslip of course, but couldn’t videoblog (i’m too shy for it). For now, I’d like to end this blog by sharing with you the stupidest thing that i’ve heard somebody shout on the streets on this wintry cold day in uptown manhattan. "yeah! i ain’t going to work today cause i’m working from home. yeah. Work from home. Cause i have a laptop that connects me to the office. yeah. laptop."  Do u have to go shouting to everyone that you have a laptop? What was that all about?!?! hahaha! go figure!