In a New York State of Mind

"Let's meet at 11pm. Dress up."

My knee-jerk reaction to this was: are you freaking kidding me? My second instinct was: no shit, it's raining and I'm not putting on a dress and heels and make up to get splashed on. Then I was outvoted.

So at ten in the evening I put on the simplest dress I have, some old high-heeled strappy sandals, and my ukay-ukay 30-peso trench coat. When I got in the cab I realized it was the first time I wore the coat, because usually it's not that cold to warrant the thick brown fabric. But then again, it's raining and it's night, so I guess it's ok.

Walking to the restaurant through the parking lot, in my trench coat and all, made me feel I'm in New York on a cold autumn night. Except I would be wearing high boots and not some strappy number that will probably encourage frostbite. Yes, I've been watching Sex and the City again for the past week. Before that, Friends. It has been my dream to live in Manhattan even for a year, just to see what it's like.

I know it's damn expensive and people are sarcastic (hi, have you met me?) and rude, I think it's a city that you could never be indifferent with. You either love it or hate it, and there are no in-betweens. Of course the TV shows glam it up so much that poverty seems romantic and there are loads and loads of beautiful men and women swarming the streets.

I know I'm being immature but if someday that dream comes true and it's nothing like Friends or Sex and the City I will hunt down the writers and kill them.

Times Square on LCA. Photo by Pammy.