The District of Columbia needs to learn the spirit from the Big Apple: this city never sleeps, not even at 1AM in a freaking storm.  Armies of workers managed the streets with plows, blowers, and shovels of all sizes.  The fact that snow might’ve accumulated faster than they could clean did not discourage them… or maybe they just didn’t have a choice, like me working till 12:30AM with a pair of bad hands.

Cabbies also didn’t sleep, although they sure changed the rules a bit.  The first few that were neither occupied nor off duty asked for my destination before letting me open the door – and simply drove away once hearing Queens.  I didn’t blame them - if snow could accumulate up to 0.5″ around Times Square, it must be devastatingly trecherous outside Manhattan.  Licensed drivers wouldn’t want to risk their own lives… but those unlicensed town cars were a different story.  One of them willingly let me on to his car and offered to take me home – for an outrageous $100 in cash.  He explained that the ride would take at least 90-100 minutes due to the road condition.  At that point, I opened the door and got out.  A second unlicensed town car offered the same ride for $60.  What a bargain!  I didn’t take it.

Hungry for some Halal meat?  Look it’s open!

Back to Queens.  Thought this looked like sand dunes in a desert:

“Winter Wonderland”?

Still snowing 12 hours later:

Ice breaker:

Another army of snow busters.  I don’t know if these are, but a good majority of NYC’s labor workers are illegal immigrants.  We as a country are highly critical of the illegals… but without them, we’d be stuck!

Logically, however, I don’t see what’s there to be so happy about it.  New Year happens on roughly 0.3% of the days, which is a lot more common than your birthday if you were born on February 29th.  A new year means a rent increase, a new set of work goals to meet, an older age, closer to death, and higher insurance premiums.  Maybe the new year partiers would realize this once they sober up.

I happened to turn my head during the countdown to the “1 hour to go” mark at 11, and the crowd exploded in cheers.  Obviously, when you have been standing in the cold rain for 11 hours and know the suffering will end in one more, you’d be pretty happy too.

The cheering, honking, and other noises were even louder when the 2010 sign lit up.  One avenue, 33 stories, and a thick layer of glass away, those noises could still be heard.  Remind me not to buy a condo in this neighborhood.

For this NYE excursion, I pulled out the camcorder that I haven’t used in about five years. It’s got much better zoom than my point-and-shoot still camera, but the only problem is I have no Firewire on this computer to upload that stuff with.  So here we are stuck with slightly less than optimal images:

The actual ball drop, fireworks, and confetti rain at midnight was unsurprisingly unimpressive.  Perhaps the point of this event is mostly about the celebrity presence and not so much the fireworks?

When you have hundreds of thousands of people, they not only pee in their pants but also produce a lot of litter.  Therefore, as soon as the clock hit midnight, a mile long of sanitation trucks were deployed.  Is it just me, or does everybody think this is more cool than the ball drop?

As you might remember from my post last year, Times Square on NYE is all about police work.  A pretty large chunk of the city around the ball is barricaded at every street intersection.  Very few, such as guests with proof of staying at a hotel within the area, can cross the police line and all their belongings have to be searched.  Hundreds of others stay on this side of the police line staring hopelessly into the distance.  Cops get tired explaining all day how, in theory as if there’s still space available, to detour into Times Square.

I’m not a fan of that Times Square ball, but always love the lights on Sixth Avenue:

Sixth Avenue from above:

The ball (the dot of light) from 42nd floor:

The ball (note how it changes colors) from the 34th floor:

Times Square at 46th Street.  Those ant-sized dots underneath the American Eagle ad are crazy tourists who had probably been standing there since noon.

Had McDonald’s for dinner.  For some reason, they think by printing blue lizzard people on my food would enhance my appetite.

Here’s the nearby McDonald’s with some crazy crowd of customers.  Note the security guard that restricts access to the upstairs seating area.  Hey, this is New York.  Even a McDonald’s has to have heavy security!

While waiting for the moment to take this picture, someone who I assumed to be a student-tourist from Taiwan, pointed to my cup and asked whether I had seen the movie Avatar.  We then exchanged some mildly excited thoughts on the movie, and the fact that he saw it in IMAX 3D (which I pointed out must be at Lincoln Center).  The Eve is one of the few occassions when it’s appropriate for a New York person to respond to a random and pointless inquiry and actually carry out a conversation that lasts over 5 seconds.

We have all learned by experience to avoid empty subway cars, half-empty cars, and dark ones.  But when I boarded this afternoon finding myself among a number of brave passengers who refused to evacuate, they were all covering their noses with scarves, sweaters, and jackets.  My NYC survival instincts were slow as I was distracted trying to locate a seat, but at least I realized in time that I’d be better off not sitting down. At first the subway car was filled with an aroma of some sort of feast featuring lots of onions; then the aroma turned into something more like a post-feast person having either thrown up all over the floor or taken a dump in his pants.  Since nothing was immediately visible on the floor, I assumed the latter.

I joined the other passengers to make a funny face while controlling my breathing to a minimum, thanking myself for planning to get off at the very next stop and MTA for not having another “we’re being delayed because of train traffic ahead of us” moment.

Though lost, Lil’ R remained content.  There was something about this place that could calm a cockroach.  The dark rubbery floor helped him blend in even in fluorescent light, and its soft touch allowed his silent footsteps to be even more quiet.  He felt like a super ninja, moving swiftly in disguise.  He trekked with confidence from one side of the room to the other; and he trekked back.  Being an invisible ninja was awesome, and it’d be so much better if only he knew where he was going.

Lil’ R continued trekking across the room.  However, little did he know that there were lurking dangers about in this dinky room full of heavy metal parts and giant warm-blooded monsters.  Also little did he know, that the monsters had already noticed his “stealth” moves.

The first to react was Rice Boi #1.  Though facing up on a bench, his natural senses from the Continent of All-Martial-Arts-Including-Ninjitsu had realized Lil’ R being in his close proximity.  He stared at this amature ninja through those prescription lenses, and continued staring as he finished that set of bicep curls.  Entirely disgusted, as soon as he put down those dumbells, Rice Boi #1 headed directly out the door and vanished from the room.

Also equipped with sharp senses and prescription lenses, Rice Boi #2 might have been the first of the giant monsters to notice Lil’ R’s presence.  Not wanting to disturb each other’s peace, he planned his moves wisely to maintain a minimum distance of 3-5 feet from Lil’ R.  But not everyone stayed out of the little ninja’s way – Big Amigo saw him on his way to switch barbell plates, frowned for a second and kicked like he would to his national sport of football.  Big Amigo’s big tennis shoe smashed into Lil’ R and sent him flying – after the last bounce on the dark rubbery floor almost landing within the 3-foot radius from Rice Boi #2.  Lil’ R’s hard-shell defence kept him unharmed, but this sudden move nearly sent Rice Boi #2 over the edge of freaking out.  God knew whether he could have exploded into a Super Saiyan then stomp Lil’ R flat and rip Big Amigo apart.  Thank goodness – all was good and no animal was harmed in the process.

“Fuck this,” Lil’ R thought, “I can’t find my way out of here.  I’ll just ascend to ground level and break into those restaurants through the front door.“  Wow.  The ground level.  It was a treacherous world out there – two or three of his brothers were found dead on that sidewalk every morning.  But as someone determined to lead his community into Roach Global Domination, Lil’ R had no fear.  Once with his mind set, he started climbing… but while the black rubbery surface was easy, the while dry wall starting at a few inches from the floor was extremely difficult to grip onto.  He went up and down, up and down, up and down…

Stumbling left and right by the 35lb barbells and 90lb dumbells, he was at risk of instantly turning into roach flakes if any of those shifted or fell.  He climbed over the heavy-bag stand and trekked underneath the yoga ball, too busy fighting the tough terrain to realize another giant monster in the vicinity.  White Haired White Guy turned his head while doing leg shuffles on a gym mat, and blew as hard as his powerful lung would allow.  Lil’ R held on tight… his mom didn’t give him six legs for no reason.  When the time was right, he fled from White Haired White Guy.

The second ascending attempt was onto the leg curl machine.  Unlike the average rusty pipes in the city, this metal rod with a glossy finish was impossible to climb.  He fell – much worse than before – onto his back.  Big time screw up!  Like a turtle being flipped over, Lil’ R waved for help with all six legs in the air.  He kicked, twisted hip, and attempted to flap those wings.  Eventually, he flipped back over on his feet, but it sure was the struggle of a lifetime.  Exhausted and mentally defeated, Lil’ R laid down under the weight plates at the shoulder press machine.  He was no longer thinking about the restaurant hop or the Roach Global Domination.  He just wanted to go home and have a good night of sleep.  Well, maybe this place will do…

Just as he was about to put down those antennas and close his eyes, Negro Dude sat down at the shoulder press…

What the hell, I’ve written more stories about roaches than about any other animal in this past year.

Prior to this, all my knowledge surrounding baseball came from the Mitsuru Adachi comic books, and all I knew about the Yankees was that the entire island of Taiwan raves about Chien-Ming Wang.  As a result, I didn’t know any of the terms in English and couldn’t name any of the top stars.  Then I learned some tonight.

The new Yankees Stadium:

The game:

The remaining gang after 10pm:

So the Yankees got their ass kicked 10-4, so I declared myself a Blue Jays fan and celebrated the victory.

After travelling 1/2 stop from home, train came to a stop.  A minute later, voice came from the intercom.

Conductor: “We’re being delayed because of train traffic ahead of us.  We’ll be moving shortly.” (Typical excuse)

A minute or two later:

Conductor: “We’re being delayed because of train traffic ahead of us.  We’ll be moving shortly.”

Another minute later:

Computer voice: “Due to a mechanical problem, this train is no longer in service.”

Computer voice: “Due to a mechanical problem, this train is no longer in service.”

Computer voice: “Because of construction, this is the final stop on this train.”

Long pause.

Conductor: “This is the conductor speaking. Those announcements were not correct.  I repeat, the announcements were incorrect.  Please disregard.”

Minutes later, the train creeped ahead slightly; distance to be measure by feet, or even inches.

Conductor: “Attention ladies and gentlemen, there is a brake emergency in Manhattan.  That is the reason for our delay.  We apologize for the inconvenience.  We will be moving shortly.”

Train moved forward another 1/4 stop.

Conductor: “Attention ladies and gentlemen, we are delayed because of a brake problem in Manhattan; also there is a switch malfunction at 47-50th Street. We will be moving again shortly.”

Minutes later, the train started again and finally arrived at the first station from home.

Station agent: “Because of the problem in Manhattan, the next stop on this train will be Queens Plaza.  This train will be going on the G line into Brookly.  I repeat, this train will be going straight into Brooklyn.”

I got off the train.

It was surprisingly an awesome experience.  The weather was gorgeous – sunny, with just enough fluffy clouds, and not at all hot.  The photographer and makeup artist were both pleasant and professional.  Everything went smoothly, clothes fit, prep time was shorter than expected, and we spent more time taking pictures.  The only downfall was that we had to pay a lot of expected hidden costs and dropped handful after handful of cash.  Even at four-digit price tags, everybody demanded cold cash!

It was fun taking bridal pictures in Central Park, with hundreds of locals and tourists watching us climbing rocks, lying on grass, making funny poses, etc.  Tons of random people took pictures of us, some asking for permission (to which our photographers always said “sure – five dollars”) and others secretly snatched shots.  Many also said congrats and other comments (“your dress is beautiful”, “now you guys can have kids”).  We’re unlikely to get this much attention ever again, even on the wedding day (since it won’t be in wide-open public).

Proofs will supposedly be ready in two weeks.  Can’t wait to see them.

This morning, for the very first time in the US, I saw somebody wear a face mask in public.

And the second time.  And the third.

The swine flu has hit the US at a threatening level, and NYC has been hit the hardest.  The first couple of cases were discovered right here in Queens, which is also a crowded neighborhood for any virus’s convenience. Morning commute on the Subway is filled with endless surprises even without a pademic warning out there, so no wonder people started taking action to protect themselves.  Hmm. Maybe I should be worried too?