I made it to New York City without any relatively big problems.

How I manage to stress myself out when traveling is beyond me. It doesn’t matter how much time I have, I will always WITHOUT FAIL stress myself out and almost miss a flight.

Luckily, fate was on my side.

Just so you are in the know: you cannot put anything larger than those really, really small traveling cases of shampoo and conditioner in your carry-on. And they must be in a plastic bag. I found this out the hard way when they retracted my 8.0oz of Divine Angels perfume and lotion from my luggage. The max is 3.1. A bit over.

When I went through security, two guards asked me if I was Filipino. I smiled, “Yes.”

Tall #1: Mabuhay!
Me: Oh…that’s great! (cringe, I hate when people try to connect via Tagalog – do you really want me to reply in a different dialect? Should I mention that I can barely speak it myself?)
Tall #2: Ma – Mago, MAGANDA!…
Me: You know what? This is the most cultured airport I’ve ever been in (hands flying over my head for emphasis)
Tall#2: Maganda…

Me (thinking to myself): Ok, he’s creeping me out. There’s only a number of times when the security guy can tell you you’re beautiful in another language before you start to sweat buckets.

Regardless, I made it here on my own, with a great taxi driver who did not try to cheat me. Good for him, I tipped him well to keep him honest.

So, now I am in my bud’s apartment. We bought snapple and wheat thins down the street and stayed up late laughing over highschool people we find on myspace – a piece of the world I personally refuse to take part in or venture alone – and now I can hear her whispering with her beau, a really adorable Italian chef who cannot stop complimenting her, as they share a twin bed and I veg on the couch.

One of my other BFF from highschool lives directly below. A canny coincidence. Her release party (she’s a singer) is next Friday and she works catering jobs to pay for her life. She won’t be back until after 2am or so and I’m trying to stay up and surprise her…

It’s a funky combo feeling right now: part highschool, Felicity, Melrose Place, and Friends…

I can hear the bus outside, squeaky brakes, and a loud conversation in the street. This building natually leans to the left and so anything round that you drop rolls around for awhile. While my feet smell from walking around so much and I miss Adonis so much I feel like carving a big fat A on my forehead, I am so happy to be here, among my friends, in my city and a banana snapple to fall asleep with.