A shot of our group at the international student orientation scavenger hunt by the Alma Mater. Racing around the Columbia campus and its surrounding area was exhilarating—like seeing the sky after a long period spent in captivity. My classmates intimidated and impressed me, and I’d like to be able to prove that I belong in their group. Now, if only I can get started on this paper due on Monday..

I’ve been in New York for just over a week, and I’m already starting to count pennies. The city bleeds you of cash like few other cities can; it’s difficult enough as a tourist, more so when you actually live in it. “The rent is too damn high,” complained Jimmy McMillan of The Rent Is Too Damn High party. I can’t complain too much, because I live in an apartment in Harlem where the rent is reasonable by Manhattan standards. But the other things—groceries, utilities, transportation, other little necessities I never thought of—do tend to run up. Of course I can live comfortably for as long as I have to stay here, but I’d gotten used to having a respectable amount in the bank. Looks like that may change for now.

While I was at the subway this afternoon, loaded with bags after running up another $50 tab at Trader Joe’s, I started to wonder if I really knew what I was getting myself into. Of course I had no idea what it would all entail when I first applied to Columbia; I just knew I wanted to go to the J-School. I went through a period questioning that as well, and here I am on the eve of my first day at school, questioning my intentions once more.

I’m 26; at my age, some friends are settling down, getting married and gearing up to have kids. I’m living in a rented apartment for the first time in my adult life, sleeping on a mattress set on the floor, sharing a common space with strangers (who are thankfully very nice), shopping for secondhand furniture. Actually paying rent on my own. It’s a strange new life, one that involves self-assembled furniture and doing the dishes as often as I pick up something to eat, and I’m entering it with anxiety as well as wide-eyed wonder.

I haven’t been here for a week yet, but my first few days in the Empire State have been pretty eventful. I’ve gone from sleeping at a luxury boutique hotel in SoHo, eating in Michelin-starred restaurants, to camping out on an air bed in my new apartment in Harlem, eating cereal out of a box. I’ve gotten lost, tanned my feet under the scorching sun, hiked up the Morningside Park, renewed my MacBook battery and charger at the Apple store, finished a book, and bought furniture (still waiting for them to be shipped here). Classes haven’t started yet, but I’ve already dropped by Columbia just to try to find my way around town.

I met a couple of J-School alumni—bought secondhand furniture from them—who are leaving town. One of them told me that he was moving because it was cheaper to go back home while he was trying to figure out what to do next. It’s not a reassuring thing, knowing that an Ivy League diploma is no guarantee of success anywhere, least of all in New York. I’m a little anxious, especially since I’ve come from so far, but I’ve had plenty of time to think about things. No turning back.

Starr the Slytherin and Bianca the Gryffindor

This is a shot from the 2007 launch of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Starr, a good friend of mine since the sixth grade, worked for the Buensalido PR firm and made sure that I got an invite to the event, where they transformed the bookstore into the Great Hall. They even had ‘floating’ candles and a live snake contained inside a glass cage (I refused to go near it). I lost the trivia game because I couldn’t remember the address of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes—93 Diagon Alley, I had put in 91—but I had a pretty good time. I got to keep the robe too, so it’s somewhere in my cabinet.

This was also the night that my boyfriend James first brought me home. Of course, he wasn’t my boyfriend back then; I was single at that time, and I could barely remember his name because for several months, I was calling him Sam for some reason. My siblings and I hitched a ride with a friend, who met up with him at the mall and asked him to take the wheel. He thought I was a geek for being nuts about the Harry Potter series, but a couple of years ago, I managed to get him to enjoy reading all the books. In return, I do my best to pay attention to basketball games and literature. I’m still working on that last aspect.

10 days to New York, and I’m wondering if I should get an iPad just so I could read more ebooks as I can’t haul hard copies in my luggage. Not just Harry Potter, mind you. I do try to read whatever I can get my hands on because I rarely watch TV; I still remember those book-deprived months in Berlin when I had nothing but Lonely Planet Central Europe and a battered copy of Pygmalion to read! I had a laptop and plenty of literary websites at my disposal, but articles just aren’t the same as an interesting book. Once a bookworm, always a bookworm.

Aside from J’s return from Bangkok, of course. I’m excited! I just know I’ll be dabbing away tears in the movie house, although I have to admit I was more excited about the book because the movies tend to be inconsistent with style and narrative. I wish J.K. Rowling would write about the Marauders—it’s sad that all of them died tragically.

I know that she’s done with writing about Harry, but I’m hoping she’s not sick of the Hogwarts universe just yet. I started reading the books when I was 15, and 11 years later, I’m still a big fan. So you know where I’ll be on July 15, come hell or high water. Or Voldemort.

Unquestionably one of my favorite poems. See original intro here.

I first encountered this poem when I was a high school senior studying under Joel Toledo. He wasn’t nearly as prolific back then—it was ten years ago—but even at 16, I thought that his poetry had a lilting musical quality rimmed with powerful imagery. I hero-worshipped the guy throughout high school and my first couple of years in college, and hung out at the Batcave (a small tunnel where the teachers often smoked during breaktimes) whenever I could upon graduating from high school. I never liked cigarettes, and he often teased me for speaking in Filipino with a colegiala accent, but I willingly held my breath to listen to what he had to say about literature, art, and life in general. He also listened to me rant about school. One time, he set me up with one of his friends, a student taking an M.A. in Creative Writing. We made it through one date.

At that time, I had big dreams of becoming a writer. I was into literature and not journalism (I had yet to reconcile the two), and I probably would have never dreamt that I would be where I am now. I had different dreams back then. He lent me books by Ray Bradbury, whom I still read at every opportunity I get, and volumes of poetry. I spent a lot of time in my freshman year at UP searching for Bradbury’s short stories and novels on the fourth floor of the main library, where novels were kept in dusty shelves. Time passed and I stopped visiting my old high school. I started getting published in a national broadsheet and several magazines when I was a college sophomore. Of course the trappings of the industry—the freebies, the relative fame, knocking cheekbones with power players—got to me. I was 19 years old, a teenager who got lucky with a scrap of talent and some hard work.

I visited him once in the middle of my event-hopping, makeup-hoarding phase. I was once close enough to him to be invited to his wedding, but by then, we didn’t have that much in common anymore. I believed I was through with admiring starving artists, while I’m pretty sure that he thought I had sold my soul back then. “Sayang ka,” he told me.

Read More…

This post is mostly for the benefit of the people I’d sent out emails to regarding their apartment listings on Craigslist/Padmapper—I sent a link to my blog to make introducing myself a little easier. So to the handful of regular readers out there, sorry for the redundancy!

* * *

Hi, I’m Bianca. I’m 26 years old, an incoming M.S. Journalism major (specializing in Digital Media) at the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism. I’ll be flying to New York on July 25, so I can start leasing by July 15/August 1 depending on the terms of the contract—if it’s a reasonable rate with a good room, I wouldn’t mind paying a little extra to hold the lease down. Anyway, I’ve only been to New York once, but I’m pretty excited about moving there for school.

I think I’d make a pretty good flatmate. Even in Manila, unless it’s for work, I don’t really hit the clubs. When I go out, it’s usually something quiet and low-key, like dinner with friends or the occasional trivia night or two (because I’m a geek that way). I rarely drink; I do have wine once in a while, but nothing over-the-top, and no hard booze. I’ve never smoked or done drugs of any sort, but I respect your choices and lifestyle as long as you respect mine. I mostly keep to myself but I don’t want to live with complete strangers, so I’m happy to talk unless I’m swamped with work. I also clean up after myself and generally keep my room organized.

Privacy is a big thing with me, so I don’t poke around other people’s territories. I’m online a lot (for work and for talking to my family and friends), so a fast Internet connection is important to me. I generally don’t watch TV and would rather read or watch shows from my laptop. I also like cooking and baking, so I’ll be in the kitchen as much as I can (saves on eating out, too!)

Hmm, other things. I’m a big bookworm, mildly obsessed with looking for good food, try to go running when I can (not often nowadays though). Pop culture? I like Harry Potter and How I Met Your Mother, among many other things. I get cabin fever when I don’t get to travel. I like nicely scented rooms and white cotton dresses.

For more information about rent payments, feel free to ask me directly.

Some snapshots of my life:

This is a photo from my recently concluded job as a magazine editor. It was from a campaign for Levi's jeans and breast cancer late last year.

This is my boyfriend, James. He's a pilot. And yes, that's the same hat from the previous photo.

I love traveling and I'd like to see more of the world. This is from a 2009 trip to Rome.

This is from the International AIDS Conference in Vienna last year. I'm trying to get into more meaningful reportage, which is why I applied for grad school in the first place.

Another photo from the AIDS conference. I try to be as tolerant and understanding of other cultures as I can.

Feel free to ask any questions about me! I promise I won’t be a psycho flatmate.