Since I've started recapping my NY trip in such a random fashion, I thought it'd be good to write down the most important sightings I've encountered during my trip and get it out of the way.
No it's not the wedding, the wedding was an once in a life time EXPERIENCE and not just sightings. I decided to write this first before recapping the wedding because I do believe for single gals everywhere, this has to have happened before any future actual weddings would take place. Of course hopefully this will continue to happen (goodness willing) after the weddings.
What I want to talk about is the all the HOT guys I've seen in NY. Yes, ladies and germs, especialy the germs, we gals like to have our eye candies stroming down the streets all the time. It's not an exclusive club where only men like to see hot women walking around town. We love to see HOT/CUTE/SEXY (or all of the above) men strutting about their businesses on the busy streets of Manhattan (and really, everywhere if wish had made it so!) as well.
Yes, you might have noticed by now that most of the gals who flew 3000 miles, 20 hours flights, 3 time zones, several lay overs, with too many annoying fellow passengers and not enough alcohol, for the wedding are single. Most importantly, the wholesome trinity of me, Cat and my sister (oh wait... she's not single... damn it!).
Even when I cannot remember every little details that happened in NY, I do remember that hot guys were everywhere, anytime. Be it the guy in the business suit, the tees and the jeans, the protester in Times Sqaure (whom by the way looks like a model and probably is one), or the men in uniform. They roam freely on the streets of NY.
Like a hybrid between a Rugby player and an AFL player, they seem to have it all. With the muscles of the Rugby's and the pretty face and lean physique of an AFL's (don't worry, I do watch the games for the games, too), they truly were sights for sore eyes. It didnt' hurt that most of the guys we met/saw were all very charming and flirty, smart and intelligent looking (emphasis on the "looking" as most of them we never talked to), and most of all did not shy away from us 3 silly, hyper, giggling, and sometimes drunk (ok maybe more than just sometimes) gals.
Even the French guy we met on the train was exceptionally adorable. Despite my sister announcing she knows the word "croissant" and him teaching us the word "idioooot" (French for describing my sister as being a total idiot that the only French word she apparently knows is "croissant" and blurting it out for our entertainment), he was still such a dreamy encounter. Well, it didn't hurt either that upon asking him his purpose of the trip, he answered "I'mmm hhheree forrr luuove." (I think I just heard my heart stopped again...). That and also the fact we were high like smoke from a chimney after Stella's hens' night party at a drag queen club called "Lucky Cheng's" where Stella won us a huge ass bowl of suicidal cocktail at the catwalk contest right after we've already replaced our blood with alcohol.
But I'm not here to talk about the French. I'll do that when I actually go to France again. The most exhilarating experience happened on my second day in NY and the first day I hit town. Like the tourists that we were, 4 girls roamed the town on an open deck tour bus with our sunnies properly positioned. We got off at Greenwich Village around lunch time and decided to find a place where we can lunch outdoor. Yes we needed to smoke so outdoor seating was a must.
After walking around the charming streets of the Village, we set down at a lovely Mexican restaurant with ourdoor seating and two heart-stoppingly cute, straight waiters. Like an episode out of Sex and the City, us 4 were having a ball checking out the waiters, eating delicious food and drinking the perfect cocktails under clear blue sky, bleached white clouds and blindingly bright sun. The conversations, if anyone still cares, went on like any episodes of SATC, too.
Half way through lunch, a fire truck stopped right next to us. Immediately, we all went ga-ga over having NY's bravests so near us and the sighting of a super cute fireman. And guess what! HE ACTUALLY WAVED AND SMILED BACK AT US! With that he took care of what the sun couldn't do that day, melting us. If it weren't for the slightly cramped table, the arms and back of the chair, I (all 4 of us really) would have fallen off the chair in a NY second. We were giggling so hard we looked like we just came out of a psychiatric ward. While I was trying compose myself, he got off the truck and started putting on his helmut, still eyeing and smiling at us, I was never more grateful for my sunnies for blocking my deranged looking eyes. When they left, he was still smiling and waving at us, all of them did actually. It was a good day and already, our trip was off to a great start.
Over the next 3 weeks, it was an unbelievable journey of beautiful men and their flirty ways (except on weekends when they were replaced by tourists, I'm serious, it actually was easy to tell between the visitors and the true New Yorkers!). If the skanky female models own the streets of NY during Fashion Week, The HOT guys of NY rule the city everyday. I have never in my life experienced anything like what I had in NY. The men were all confident and proactive, never shying away from an eye contact, or starting a converstation. They were free in their flirtatious ways and spared no effort in making a lady feel good. Best of all, the ladies are free to respond in whatever way they want. It truly was a liberating experience.
Of course, there were also your usual jerks and smart asses, but in this free country, for 3 short weeks, I was freed. I was free to be who I am or whomever I want to be. Maybe it's the upside of being a tourist when you don't have to worry about the consequences, but in a city where prices are high, so are the prizes...
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Monday, October 16, 2006
The Story of The Steak and The Cheesecake Cop...
NYC Cops In Action
Antother tribute to my NY trip. This is a stupid video I took...
So Cat and I were walking all around New York City looking for Steak one night after Celina was gone. We walked and walked and walked and after walking too many blocks and passing too many posh and pricey places, we finally settled in on a place called Maxie's that says on it's door they have The Best Cheesecake. Yes, we were in search of a good old piece of juicy yummy all Amercian steak and we ended up at a cheesecake place.
By the time we set down, we had a faint idea that we're around the Time Square area but since we've just walked through many dark alleys to get there we've totally lost out exact GPS readout. We were tired, hungry and wanted to sit down and the word cheesecake stood out like a light tower in the dark of ocean and it calmed our nerves. Actually the Hawaiian Tropic Zone next door with the pretty bikini-clad waitresses calmed our nerves more seeing as we would be among our own people (the waitresses not the customers), but as always, good things come with a high price.
We set down at a spot by the window near the back of the restaurant, ordered our steaks and nurtured our tired spirit with some very strong drinks. After a mere few sips of our drinks, we started to notice the perculiar things in the restaurant. For example, the wait staff here are all men except for the host, a few of them were young guys but most of them looked like they've been there for way too long. And their uniform was this stained white shirt which makes them look like the waiters in those Hong Kong local diner Cha Chaan Teng 茶餐廳 except they serve you cocktails, not milk tea and steak instead of fried beef noodles. I do regret not having taken a photo of them, what an odd sight. By the way, they serve like waiters from 茶餐廳 too.
Although our steak came out too well done and we had to sent it back, we did have some amazing desserts. Cat and I shared a piece of, wait for it, triple chocolate brownie cheesecake. It was heaven like and to top off the evening, we witnessed some real NYPD action. Just like episodes out of NYPD Blues, except there were no guns and no chasing, only 3 police cars, about 9 policemen and a stunning female latino cop with all the attitude and sassiness we've only ever seen on TV or in movies. She thoroughly mesmerised us.
The night didn't end there, this is just the first of many incredible stories from my NY trip. I will write more later, for now, I just wanted to write about the cop and the cheesecake.
By the way, we realised the next day how close this place was to Time Sqaure and we really shouldn't have felt so lost. Especially when it's right under the huge ass billboard sign advertising Sex and The City. For anyone curious to know about the address, it's on the corner of 7th Ave and 49th street. hehe...
Antother tribute to my NY trip. This is a stupid video I took...
So Cat and I were walking all around New York City looking for Steak one night after Celina was gone. We walked and walked and walked and after walking too many blocks and passing too many posh and pricey places, we finally settled in on a place called Maxie's that says on it's door they have The Best Cheesecake. Yes, we were in search of a good old piece of juicy yummy all Amercian steak and we ended up at a cheesecake place.
By the time we set down, we had a faint idea that we're around the Time Square area but since we've just walked through many dark alleys to get there we've totally lost out exact GPS readout. We were tired, hungry and wanted to sit down and the word cheesecake stood out like a light tower in the dark of ocean and it calmed our nerves. Actually the Hawaiian Tropic Zone next door with the pretty bikini-clad waitresses calmed our nerves more seeing as we would be among our own people (the waitresses not the customers), but as always, good things come with a high price.
We set down at a spot by the window near the back of the restaurant, ordered our steaks and nurtured our tired spirit with some very strong drinks. After a mere few sips of our drinks, we started to notice the perculiar things in the restaurant. For example, the wait staff here are all men except for the host, a few of them were young guys but most of them looked like they've been there for way too long. And their uniform was this stained white shirt which makes them look like the waiters in those Hong Kong local diner Cha Chaan Teng 茶餐廳 except they serve you cocktails, not milk tea and steak instead of fried beef noodles. I do regret not having taken a photo of them, what an odd sight. By the way, they serve like waiters from 茶餐廳 too.
Although our steak came out too well done and we had to sent it back, we did have some amazing desserts. Cat and I shared a piece of, wait for it, triple chocolate brownie cheesecake. It was heaven like and to top off the evening, we witnessed some real NYPD action. Just like episodes out of NYPD Blues, except there were no guns and no chasing, only 3 police cars, about 9 policemen and a stunning female latino cop with all the attitude and sassiness we've only ever seen on TV or in movies. She thoroughly mesmerised us.
The night didn't end there, this is just the first of many incredible stories from my NY trip. I will write more later, for now, I just wanted to write about the cop and the cheesecake.
By the way, we realised the next day how close this place was to Time Sqaure and we really shouldn't have felt so lost. Especially when it's right under the huge ass billboard sign advertising Sex and The City. For anyone curious to know about the address, it's on the corner of 7th Ave and 49th street. hehe...
Saturday, October 14, 2006
How I Lost My Vogue...
This is not really how I wanted to start my NY trip review blog as I have so much to say and they are all crazy, neurotic, hilarious stories and experiences. I'm not even ready to start but this I have to write about.
I bought a carton of Vogue when I left Hong Kong (as only the departure Duty Free sells them and not the arrival ones, don't ask me why this is so stupid) and I deliberately left 3 packs with me so that when I get back to HK I get to smoke them.
On my return, I finished my first pack like I'm a freaking chimney. It was good. Really good.
My second pack I finished it at regular pace. Well I did savour it a little by smoking something else in between to prolong the finishing of the second pack.
My third pack, I actually cut down on smoking so that I can make it last and last. I smoked just a few. So there was a BBQ with the same old bunch tonight. I packed my Vogue, put it in my bag and off I went. Somewhere between digging for my wallet and finding my seat I must have had a hand spasm or something. With all the mess that's going on around me right now, I really could not remember what happened, I could have walked out of my apartment with different shoes for all I care and I wouldn't have noticed. When after smoking a few of my friend's ciggies I've decided to dig for mine and it wasn't there. So, silly me, I thought I might have forgotten about it and just thought I put it in my bag when I hadn't.
All night I smoked someone else's ciggies. When I got home I thought, oh great, now I can smoke some of my Vogue! Well it wasn't home either. No where to be found. I actually went to the garbage room and dug out my trash to see if I had accidentally put it in the trash. Yes ladies and germs, I went through my trash, with other people's trash on top of them but I dug them out anyway. No luck there.
So now I'm feeling sad. Coz that was my last pack of Vogue for a long, long time. They were good ciggies. How I miss them.
So this is a blog dedicated to my lost ciggies. My Vogue.
I bought a carton of Vogue when I left Hong Kong (as only the departure Duty Free sells them and not the arrival ones, don't ask me why this is so stupid) and I deliberately left 3 packs with me so that when I get back to HK I get to smoke them.
On my return, I finished my first pack like I'm a freaking chimney. It was good. Really good.
My second pack I finished it at regular pace. Well I did savour it a little by smoking something else in between to prolong the finishing of the second pack.
My third pack, I actually cut down on smoking so that I can make it last and last. I smoked just a few. So there was a BBQ with the same old bunch tonight. I packed my Vogue, put it in my bag and off I went. Somewhere between digging for my wallet and finding my seat I must have had a hand spasm or something. With all the mess that's going on around me right now, I really could not remember what happened, I could have walked out of my apartment with different shoes for all I care and I wouldn't have noticed. When after smoking a few of my friend's ciggies I've decided to dig for mine and it wasn't there. So, silly me, I thought I might have forgotten about it and just thought I put it in my bag when I hadn't.
All night I smoked someone else's ciggies. When I got home I thought, oh great, now I can smoke some of my Vogue! Well it wasn't home either. No where to be found. I actually went to the garbage room and dug out my trash to see if I had accidentally put it in the trash. Yes ladies and germs, I went through my trash, with other people's trash on top of them but I dug them out anyway. No luck there.
So now I'm feeling sad. Coz that was my last pack of Vogue for a long, long time. They were good ciggies. How I miss them.
So this is a blog dedicated to my lost ciggies. My Vogue.
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