a taro ball and a spoonful of fried rice for breakfast, and we're good to go.

something i took fooling around with the cam while mom took a nap at the Y...



NIKE

as in "just do it" nike.

i have a love-hate relationship with the brand. i love it because it makes clothes that fit me wonderfully, and i hate it because i spend way too much on it.

i swear...the nike store on fifth avenue could've survived the day on just one customer - me.

if the japanese weren't so into girly branded shit like gucci and more into nike, i'd probably pale in comparison. but man...this nike freak went wild then.

everything i tried on fitted swell. i just stopped trying stuff on at one point because i knew i'd HAVE TO buy them.

but, like i told my brother, i am very happy with my purchases. they should last me a long while.

Shopping

yes...nike was it. but it wasn't it all.

there were the NBC store, Virgin records and the GAP...among others.

i tried to find myself another trenchcoat (less the double lining) but couldn't. most of them were way too warm for singapore weather.

and then i realize how my sense of style came about. it's new york style baby.

and that's a relief, cuz i can't imagine where else i'd model my style after. ha.

trenchcoats are so indigenous to new york city that if they were seen on people working anywhere else in the world, they'd look plain weird.

and i love looking plain weird. ;)

Drivers

NYC drivers are fucking impatient.

it's tough not to generalize them because their behavior is so apparant at every observation.

you turn your car out of its parallel parking lot and stop for a moment to check on traffic. a split second later, horns start blaring. apparantly, YOU are blocking the way.

you can imagine how noisy the city is during the day then.

Fat People

you know how horizontally-challenged some people are. that's why south-west came up with the "pay for an extra seat" crap.

so there i was with mom, sitting in the forbidden broadway theater...it was a small outfit, tucked away in a little, dark corner on 42nd street. the seats were old and their armrests were metal ones which were stationary.

in comes two HUGE people. they came in, inched their way painfully into the middle of the row (like hell! why couldn't they have been seated at the aisle to save everyone else the trouble and them from humiliation?!), and proceeded to sit down.

and so they did. they propped their butts onto the seat, only to have their cheeks stuck between the two armrests that divide the seats.

now normally, you'd push the armrests up. but because these are, like, old and metal ones, you simply can't.

so what did those two fellas do? the squeezed their cheeks past those metal bars and yes, they finally felt cushion.

i was three rows back and could actually hear their cheeks squeezing past those bars. geez.

I FEEL STIFLED IN THE COMPANY OF WOMEN WHO OPPRESS THEMSELVES.