A semi-clean map

Location: 20 mins ago, outside shoveling
Mood: hot
Music: It’s hard to free the ones you love

The UWS in early winter

As I once said, all emotional pain comes when your expectation of reality doesn’t match reality. A guy who knows his wife’s cheating on him regularly isn’t all that twisted when he catches them in the act, cause he was prepared for it.

So my buddy in the last entry’s having a hard time dealing with his breakup. Makes sense – breakups’re hard. This whole blog came about from my last major breakup.

But to make it easier – the pain that is – I changed my map of the world.

Imagine y’had the job of erasing the word “Broadway” from every map you got. That’s a tough task. And when you’re done, the faint lines of the word’sre still there. But it’s gone for the most part.

Dunno if y’know this, but I paid for law school fixing computers and networks.

A computer doesn’t actually read a whole harddrive to find the data it wants, it has a map, a table of contents, that lists every file it has. When you want a file, it looks it up on the map, goes to where it is, and pulls it out.

When it deletes a file, all it does is erase that one line on its map. The file’s still there, it just doesn’t know it.

When you wanna get a file back, you can sometimes cause it can figure out what on the map’s changed.

My buddy won’t erase his map. I don’t blame him. It’s heartbreaking and hard.

But Broadway’s gone. He’s gotta scrub his map. If she comes back, that’s great, the faint lines’ll be there and he’s got a semi-clean map ready for her.

If she doesn’t, well, he’s still got a semi-clean map to work with.

Either way, a semi-clean map’s a good thing.

Only the stalker and the starkers say that Broadway’s there when it’s not.

YASYCTAI: Shovel. (60 mins/.05 pts)

My life in print

Location: early yest morning, by the pier thinking of not going
Mood: wishing
Music: give us the greens of summers


Her
: You’re good to me.
Me: I like seeing you happy.

Y’remember that client that I told you I just got, King Happy Shrimp Rice, Ltd? Just picked up a national magazine on the newsstand this week and was shocked to learn that it was named one of the best Chinese restaurants in the NY. Damn. I knew I should have charged more. (Yes, I changed the name slightly – I’m not insane).

Speaking of which, my ex and two of the other men she was seeing at that time are all journalists so I had the misfortune of running into them all regularly as I read my morning paper. The married dude was in the same paper. Of course. As a weird coda t’all this, got an email today from an ISP telling me that the URL I reserved for when she and I got married expired.

Eh, I’m ok with it.

Damn, I get a lotta junk mail.

Saw Heartgirl for dinner the other night. We ordered delivery and saw a flick – hooked up my computer to her plasma TV. She didn’t understand why I didn’t just bring a DVD till I explained to her that all my DVDs were converted to computer files. She was ill-prepared for my level of nerd. It was actually so much fun that, if I didn’t know better, I’d say we were on a date. But she says we weren’t so who am I to argue? I’m seeing her again this week for another non-date, date. Can’t explain it cause I don’t understand it myself.

Today, woke up early but got to where I needed to be late cause a charming girlie by the pier was distracting me. Of course. Got two new fencing students for some private tutoring so I rushed home to get stabbed and punched. Repeatedly.

More things happened but nuthin that’d interest you.

Her: …and that’s how my four-year old cousin learned the word, Zamboni. The End.
Me: (laughing) You always end your stories with “The End.”
Her: Well, that’s how you know the story’s over, Logan.
Me: (nodding) Of course.

The End

YASYCTAI: Learn that irrespective (of) and regardless are words; irregardless is not. (0 mins/0 pts – cm’on, you should know this already)

Broken and Bendy

There’s a vast difference between broken and bendy

Him: (joking) No offense Logan, but if I were a hot chick, I’d wanna be with an I-banker or doctor. Why would she pick a guy like you?
Me: (laughing) Cause I may be broke, but I’m not broken.

About six years ago, a blondie lived in my building. She was broken. Bad job, bad relationships, etc. My roomie and I tried to be nice to her but she took that to mean something else. Before we knew it, we’re ducking in and out of our own home. Took about a year, a lotta drama, the sheriffs and the courts to get her out.

Fast forward to this past weekend, to this old guy, who coincidentally took the same room as the blondie. He’s certain everyone and everything is against him. Tried to be friendly with him with some recent issues with his apartment but drew the line when he turned to his Chinese wife (he’s Caucasian) and said, “Talk to him in his native tongue.” To which I said, “I’m an American, this is my native tongue” which really bothered him for some reason. Like he was gonna stab me, bothered him. So I bounced.

The next day he calls me a queer when the owner and I try to take pics of repairs to his room. Luckily, he’s not just old, bitter and crazy, he’s also racist and homophobic.

You know when they say about a whacked out young person, Oh he’ll grow outta that? That’s not true at all. Young, broken people grow up to be old, broken people. It’s like a bullet going on a trajectory, a degree off center from the barrel means yards from the target down the line.

As an aside, you might not think it’s much, but I’m realizing that not being broken’s a HUGE selling point as a single-guy in NYC. It’s better to be an old 6 and not broken than a young 9 and broken – I should know.

And as an old guy, a word of advice: don’t ever think you can fix a broken person. They gotta fix themselves. It’s the only way. All you can do is avoid.

On a completely different point, met another gymnast this weekend. the ex, SX, Blue Jean Eyes, and PCD, were all of that bendy ilk. Broken is quite uncool. Bendy, however, bendy’s quite cool.

Location: bed
Mood: irritated
Music: Now you’re broken and you don’t understand

Armed and Dangerous

There are three types of people in the world – maybe four

Me: There are three types of people in the world. Single, sorta single and not single.
Her: Not true, there’s a fourth.
Me: (puzzled) Really, what’s that?
Her: (laughing and flashing a ring on her left hand) An MBA – Married But Available.

We all carry our homemade weapons with us. The everyday items that, when against the wall, we flick out and stab others with.

My intellect instantly becomes arrogance; wit, sarcasm; focus, aggression. Faster than the blink of a teary eye. It’s parta why I don’t curse – that’s just gas on a fire.

At some point in every relationship, you got that split-second choice on whether or not to draw those weapons. Once those daggers come out, man, there’s no going back. There’s no putting toothpaste back inna tube.

A monster, No. 6 once said of me. We’d such a bloody end; I said things no one should ever say. Then again, so did she. Just spoke to her not that long ago. My fine handiwork’s still in her voice.

Cause I’m the skillest with my sharp objects. The killest with my blunt instruments.

Every fencer knows to take care when drawing. Cause you’re always just as likely to cut yourself as your adversary. I don’t recall a time I ever drew first and didn’t cut myself more. Not once. And I’m never unarmed.

The skillest and killest. It’s a horrid gift.

———-

A different girlie:

Her: Hey Logan. (pause) I’d like to be friends. I think we could be friends.
Me: I’d really like that.

Location: my childhood bed
Mood: wicked once again
Music: another evil force tellin’ me to do what I gotta do

Sue and the King

Location: 14:00 yest, being poked on 33rd & Lex
Mood: stressed
Music: its bad in December When they play those Christmas songs

By the time you read this, I should be about here.

An ex popped into my head today on the drive home. She’s happily living in London with her new fella. I told her two summers ago that I would take a picture of my place and send it to her since it changed so much and she couldn’t picture it. I never got around to it.

I always think of her around this time because we traveled together for the holidays. She and I got along great but it just wasn’t right.

I really should take that pic of my apartment and email it to her but I never do. It’s kinda nice at times when people pop into your head for no reason – like they stopped by for a cup of tea or something.

Me: Stay, stay…just for a bit. I have Earl Grey and something sweet.
Her: OK, just for a bit.

I miss her; not so much the romance part but the friend part. I think that’s what I always miss with every ex.

This song makes me laugh but the King was right, few things are as good as Susan when she tried.

Eponine

We are all we know

The subway’s never empty. Unless you’re an insomniac. Then they’re empty a hellva lot.

———-

Thought about some of the people I’ve met recently and in the not-so-distant past. For some strange reason, I also thought of a girl I dated once. It’s the fall.

Part of the reason I think I liked her was because she said that every person that ever went out with her treated her like crap (I’m weird like that). When she told me that, I thought of Eponine from Les Mis.

The book’s a little different from the musical. In the book, there’s this one scene where she’s tossed a stale piece of bread. Starving, she pounces on it like a crazed animal. The hard bread hurts her teeth but she says that she knows the bread is good because it’s hard.

See, Eponine has no concept that there’s such a thing as bread that’s not rotten and not hard. It’s all she knows.

Tried to treat the ex nicely – never did find out if she she thought I did. Random, right?

As for me, well, my friends think I’m lucky because so many people enter and exit my Venn Diagram.

I’m not sure. You see, it’s all I know…

Location: 20:30, getting caught in some rain in Bayside
Mood: exhausted
Music: through the clouds Memories come rushing up to meet me now

Sophie / Whatcha gonna do?

You can meet a fella like me

Some people said they found new musicians like The Wreckers, Camera Obscura and KT Tunsall through this blog so, I’d like to also introduce you to Sophie Ellis Bextor.

She reminds me of my very first girlfriend in this vid – beautiful, well-dressed, pale skin, big eyes…mean*.

Yep, that’s her.

———-

Was discussing my problems with a buddy of mine:

Him: So, whatcha gonna do?
Me: I have a cunning plan.
Him: Really?
Me: Well…I have a plan at least…

———-

I met a girl a while back that shot me an email recently and another conversation that reminded me that I should keep trying to get the three parts of my life in sync.

Me: You’ll like being single.
Her: Why?
Me: (shrugging) Cause now you can meet a fella like me.


*I should note that my first girlfriend is the only one I ever say anything negative about – mainly because of the pic in this post.

Location: 19:00 yest, in an office wondering what I’ve done
Mood: exhausted
Music: know I know I know About your kind

This time around

 

Camera Obscura in concert at the South Street Seaport

 

Camera Obscura – the drummer was smoking like a chimney.

Baltimore was nice. Coming home was nicer. This time around, there was silverware. Sorta.

Was in the Baltimore Penn Station and I remembered being there a year ago asking my brother what I should do when I got home. He reminded me of something:

You’re 33. How can someone that you’ve been with for four years define you? What’d you do before her?

Told him the same thing once before.

I’m troubled again, but this time, for totally different reasons.

Was going to make a peanut butter and marmalade sandwich but instead had a rendezvous with a single-barrel, seven-year rum. No oranges.

This week is going to be very unpleasant but I just told someone here that life has it’s highs and lows. Life’s like that.

I’m ready for some more highs.

Camera Obscura in concert at the South Street Seaport

Location: 9PM yest, Freehold NJ, hearing a sad story
Mood: troubled
Music: I’m a stupid little thing

We all have our own Black Swans

A Black Swan is an unforeseen event that makes a huge impact

 

A Black Swan is an unforeseen event that makes a huge historical impact. The assassination of Franz Ferdinand, 9/11, and the rise of dot coms are considered Black Swans.

But we all have our own personal Black Swans, yeah? Those events that changed everything about our lives completely unexpectedly?

The ex moved out a year ago this week.

I recorded the above video for my brother after I got back from Baltimore and saw that she, and all her stuff, was gone (nothing risqué; trust me, totally SFW).

I used the spatula to make myself a peanut butter and orange marmalade sandwich. I sat in my empty living room and thought, Well, this is gonna suck. And it did. Really bad.

But it doesn’t anymore. When I do think of a girl, she’s not the one I think of. I never would have believed it.

Time and tide changes everything.

Note to self: If you ever live with a chick again, do not throw out your utensils just because hers matches.

Life is good.

Location: -20 mins, on Broadway, picking grapefruit
Mood: grateful
Music: My heart was broke, my head was sore, what a feeling
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Umbrellas in our drinks

 The night is young and we have umbrellas in our drinks

 

Spoke to an ex a few times in this month. Probably not a good idea.

Speaking of exes, I met a designer who asked me what happened with my last serious girl. I don’t know why I told her because I don’t think I told anyone really, including you, did I? No great drama, really. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Me: One random day, I picked up tickets to a show and got reservations at her favorite Japanese restaurant as a surprise. She said she couldn’t make it that night because she was tired. So I tried to get her come out without ruining it and she hung up on me.
Her: That’s it? That’s crazy! You never told her?
Me: (shrugging) I tried but it’s hard talking to a dial tone.
Her: What? You couldn’t leave a message?
Me: I could have. But I felt that she should have been on my side, yeah?
Her: That’s your pride talking. I dunno who’s more f____ up, you or her.
Me: I’d put money on me. (laughing) But hey, we’re in New York, the night is young and we have umbrellas in our drinks. Does anything else really matter right now?
Her: (shakes head, grins)

It’s been a while since I’ve thought of either ex.

Dunno if it’s church, chicks, the checks or the rum, but I’ve been oddly content.

That’s not true – I know why. I’ll tell you soon.

Promise.

Location: 5:45PM yest, alone in a church
Mood: excited
Music: Sunlight On my face I wake up and yeah I’m alive
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