browngypsy

It's 7:16 am. Friday. My last day in New York City. And it's not humid! I can't believe I'm leaving Big Apple for good after 6 fucking years. Kenny, my roommate, woke up early today. I still have to get my rent deposit from him. I need it. I've been counting my money for the trip and it's freaking me out. My money won't last me for a month. I gotta get a job in Vancouver. He's coming back later today so I'll get my money. I gotta give more of my clothes to the super. I've given a lot of my clothes to him. You should see the smile on his Brazilian face. I don't want to be carrying a lot. My luggage is large enough to hide a body. It's huge and heavy. I've got my backpack ready. Huge one, too. What was I thinking? How will I be carrying my luggage and my backpack and my laptop bag? . I don't even want to think about it. One word--SCIATICA. I am hoping the weight will not trigger my fucking sciatica. I am leaving a lot of shit in the apartment. I can't bring my porn. I gave Perry a box of my porn tapes collection. My porn magazines, too. Believe me it was hard enough to put them in the box and gave them away to Perry. Lucky geezer!!! They're my babies!!!

I had dinner last night with Carl and Marion. Nice couple. Carl didn't touch the "chicharon bulaklak". Not a bit. He just looked at them like a specimen. As for me and Marion, it was crunchy good. Carl actually asked me what it is, pointing to his neck, trying to figure out whether it comes from the neck part. There was something in his smile that worried me. I didn't answer him. I didn't want him to spoil his "kaldereta" (beef stew).

Kaldereta
Chicharon bulaklak


I don't think I want to have brunch with Dean today. I had enough of send-off party, send off lunch, send off dinner, etc. I am still coming back. I am not going away forever.
Astoria, New York