The largest roller coaster in the world
Freakin’ roller coaster ride. I lost my stomach ages ago. Probably when I was 22.
Sorry that a notification email was sent to you all about this blog-building. Didn’t mean to!!! Well that’s what I get for clicking away! I guess there’s an assumption anyway that your (first-degree) friends are interested in what you have to think, say and write, right?
Those columns are monthly, the thoughts come daily. And because the drink with the friend won’t transpire ’til Friday, you’ll have to drink with me. Mojitos, anyone? Or Muscat? And then, there’s that post-venting day when you’re either red from laughter or something else.
Turns out, we don’t have to drive all the way down to South Jersey to take a ride. New York is Great Adventure, just in disguise. Covered by streets, taxis and drop-dead-gorgeous men. It has more than Six Flags though. It has 200 - at the UN and in Rockefeller Plaza. Mike was right. Life in NY is just full of ups and downs. You just can’t tell where the tops and bottoms are. The tops could well be on the sidewalk of 45th St., even if the Empire State Building is on 34th St. My knees just went weak. I don’t know what came over me. They just never shook before. And the bottom could well be on a roofdeck on 26th St., even if you’re 50 feet above ground.
I’ve always called it emotional rollercoaster. Just don’t stay at the bottom too long, and try to enjoy the heights as long as you can. And know that you’re not the only one on this ride. Hold your friend’s hand. And then scream Kowabunga!
Went to the Hugo Boss Roofdeck Fashion Party last night. Saw Jason Lewis (Samantha’s Smith Jerrod in Sex and the City), Rosario Dawson and Tommy Lee (well at least B saw him- I couldn’t care less). These hyper-sightings just validated what has been luring in my mind for the past month - that I don’t have an opinion about celebrities anymore. I just don’t care. I think it’s just a waste of time to even spend our thoughts and voices on them. The Toms and Katies of the movieworld could go crazy jumping on sofas or marrying each other and I could say "whatever." If they’re happy, good for them, if they’re going through divorces and those tough times, I’m sorry to hear that–but we all go through that. My thought is that the movie/tv industry is fan-based. The "stars" have to have followers and stalkers, or else they wouldn’t have jobs. Doctors and engineers don’t have to have fans, just clients. Unless that’s what modern marketing books are preaching these days. I have a free People magazine subscription which doesn’t do anything for me at all. I’m not asking for brain- feeding of course, but entertainment at least. Is it because I’ve had more than a regular dose of celebrity exposure, or is it because what’s become surreal now is being six inches away from my dad or brother? My friend Christie and I agreed–Colin Farrell sitting in bed with us at Duvet is much more likely and unsurprising than being back at the beach in Cebu. Or is it because in the past year, I’ve met "regular" people who are ultimately more amazing and brighter than the stars?
Or is it because the real star is right beside me?
I feel that my life is a book and I’m on chapter five. And the plot is thickening. In terms of love, I’ve had a few hits and misses, and like Rob Thomas, I’m beginning to despise another heartache on my list. For my friends Vanessa, Margarita, Annaliza and I, we all feel that the past two months was the end of an era. I just turned the last page of my chapter this morning. It felt different. Not necessarily good, but I hope it will turn out to be.
I’m crossing my fingers, my toes, my arms, my legs and my eyes. I hope some of you out there are with me.
