End of Summer at The Met

I've been wanting to see the Regarding Warhol exhibit at The Metropolitan Museum of Art for days and since I've taken up a lot more days at work, I couldn't just walk off into the sunset of Museum Mile on 5th Avenue, which is where the Grand Dame of NYC Museums is located. 

But I finally did and so here goes my way of coping with the end of summer.

I left the house early.  Early for me means 11am, after a breakfast of waffles and Nutella.  Then burger lunch at Shake Shack at 12noon.  Yup, I like to eat.

I got to The Met at almost 1 and of course, tourists galore!  I got in line to get my little pin, gave my donation of $1, trying to be discreet about it but all the while itching to tell all those in line before and after me that they don't have to give the recommended fee of $25.  They can give me the $24 if they're so inclined to spend money.

Anyway, I couldn't take any pictures at the Warhol exhibit, which was weird because they couldn't care less about taking pictures of the classics.  I'm guessing it might have something to do with copyright laws like in books.  If it's more than a 100 years old, then it's public domain or something.

Auguste Rodin

Stepping Out, Roy Lichtenstein

Nymphs and Satyr, William Bouguereau

And so I did my moping at The Met.  Now I'm ready for fall.  Getting ready for winter will require a lot more art and beauty.

Chicago The Musical

I saw Chicago on Broadway last week.  My favorite number was Cell Block Tango.  Although there weren't any mainstream celebrities that I know of like Christie Brinkley, I liked it just the same. 

I can't do a review to save my life.

Confessions of an Ex-Airline Slave

My brother who hates traveling (gasp!) dramatically informed us that he changed his mind and would love to travel too.  About time!  I've never understood how he can be contented in staying in one place and not gasp in awe about waterfalls and unicorns but I do see his point about the endless immigration lines and packing.

I'm not so delusional as to think that I'm alone in this wanderlust, travel bug, thirst for travel restlessness.  I grew up in an mid-income household where both of my parents worked to make ends meet.  Add 6 kids and two house helps, a mortgage to be paid off and reasonable luxuries (like a pack of Chips Ahoy!) to the mix, we get frazzled parents and disciplined kids who know they won't always get what they want.  But we always, always got to go on those yearly summer trips to a beach resort no matter what.  

Then I worked for Philippine Airlines for 7 years after college.  That fed my wanderlust even more as I took advantage of it to the best of my abilities.  Imagine eight people traveling together as non-revenue passengers (that means free in airline-speak) to LA and SF from Manila.  I was always unhappiest before these trips because I absolutely can't have one of us get bumped off a flight.  Stress and pressure could've killed me then.  Oh, the things I've learned to do to ensure that all 8 of us get on those flights.  And I didn't even have to touch anybody.

All Smoke, No Fire

Had I not received tickets to see The Last Smoker in America, it wouldn't register a blip in my brain.  That's not such a bad thing because there are a lot more shows that I haven't seen but anyway, I went to see it with a friend.  We weren't about to waste free tickets even if it meant two hours of our time.

Most of the people around us must've been family and friends of the cast because they were all too ready with their laughs and nods of approval.  What?  Ganya and I were stoic-faced mascots looking at each other, wondering what people were laughing about.

This won't be a proper critique, as is usual with me and this blog, and there's really no point anymore  because the show closed September 1.