Thursday 25 June

I get up about 8am and see that Chris isn't home. He went out with a local who he had been in touch with. I'm not concerned however by 9ish I text to see if he is okay and alive. I think he has either lost his phone or completely lost. I also think he probably picked up. I get a response after a bit and my imagination settles.

This morning I go to the MET and find the labrynthine rooms annoying. I am not as interested in art as I would like to be (since I am here) and move swiftly through each room looking for something to take my attention. I'm out in 2 and 1/2 hours including my 15 minute coffee break. I almost buy a jigsaw of Klimt's The Kiss but don't. Kind of wish I did now but I can always go back. This is not a good thing to rely on though as you never know what the day will bring.

Tiffany! I had no intention of going in to the store but it would be silly not to now that I am here. After seeing plenty of other "not so snappy" dressers go in, I follow. Not really my cup of tea most of it. I wouldn't say no of course but most of the stuff is too big. All I want is to have my breakfast at Tiffany's photo taken. This is a shot of me holding a handwritten note saying Breakfast and me standing in front of the Tiffany sign. I am so funny! Mission accomplished, I head across to Bloomingdales. I really can't be bothered too much with this one as I'm not going to buy anything at these prices. They still have the rickety old wooden escalators and I am transported to another era.

I walk a few blocks and reach MOMA. Lauren Hutton walks up to the counter at the same time as me. She looks exactly as you expect. The staff don't recognise her as they are a younger generation. My interest levels rise a bit with this environment but not by a great deal. I have a coffee first and it costs $4.74. Ouch! Walking around I find I am insulted by some artist's ideas of art. Honestly, a black painted square of canvas is not art, an old woman's collecton of household rubbish and junk is still rubbish and junk no matter how nicely you arrange it. I am not joking when I say rubbish - there are plastic drink bottles, take away containers, paper bags, bird cages, shoes, boxes and bottle tops. I take a photo to prove it. Again I whizz through the exhibitions and get out. No more museums for me on this trip. Historical ones will be fine.

Time is ticking on and I go to Times Square intending to get theatre tix but change my mind. I have dinner at Planet Hollywood only because I have a $10 off voucher. My cannelloni style meal is loaded with garlic, salt and cheese. I may just die right here at the table. I get cranky with the bill because I am forced to pay the minimum tip and expected to add more. Now, I am at peace with the tipping system but this is just incredibly rude. My meal was less than satisfactory and the service wasn't that good either. There will be no extra tip.

As I head off to the shops again I notice everyone looking up. It's different to the normal looking up at the signs etc and I wonder what they are looking at. I look up and see the news headlines - Michael Jackson, King of Pop, dead at 50. Everyone is still and staring in shock. As I move on all the stores are playing his music. A short time later I see someone's newspaper with a picture of Farrah and a word "was", so I think she must have died too. Which she did. Her death will be way overshadowed by Michael's.

Back to Macy's, I can't help myself. Luckily they are open til 9.30pm as I need the time to look around. I don't want to try on the 6 bras I have collected but they are good value and I buy one, missing out on 3 others as they didn't have my size. Damn, I want those Calvin Klein ones.

I must get home to write and plan tomorrow. I put the radio on but after about an hour or more of Michael Jackson I have to turn it off. Bed time.