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personal

Love is the eye of the storm

That’s why I asked

It’s been busy lately, for a number of reasons.

Red: I should tell you I’m married.
Me: That would have been useful information to have prior to this.
Her: We have an open relationship.
Me: I’m glad you found your person. Unfortunately, that’s not my bag.
Her:  I’ve never [had someone just say no].
Me: Life is nothing if not unexpected. I’m a terrible person, to be sure. But I don’t fuck with marriage.

Blue: Do you really want to know?
Me: That’s why I asked.
Her: Both my parents died and I was 16. So it was either leave school or be homeless. I made a choice. That’s probably why I’m [so successful now].
Me: That’s called a “Hobson’s Choice,” because you really had no choice at all. And I’m sorry.
Her: Don’t be. You didn’t do anything. And everything worked out.
Me: (shrugging) I’m sorry because I’m human. And some people’s human experience is much worse than others.
Her: I appreciate that, after all you’ve been through, you still have empathy for others.
Me: (laughing) How could I not? 

Green/White: I was married. Twice. Are you sure you want to hear about it?
Me: That’s why I asked.
Her: (shrugging) The first one, I was just a kid and it ended early. But the second one just ended right before the pandemic. He had his own trauma and the deal was that he would go to therapy after we got married.
Me: I assume he didn’t.
Her: (bitterly) No. You can tell I’m still angry about it. Sorry.
Me: Don’t apologize for your genuine emotions. You earned them. So, you’re entitled to them.


White: There wasn’t a straw in my drink.
Me: OK. (thinking) Ah, you think I put something into it.
Her: Well…
Me: (taking a sip of her drink) If I end up passing out because someone – not me – roofied your drink, just make sure I get into a cab toward the upper west side?

Black: It’s like a job. Once or twice a week, I wake up, switch on an app, answer a few dozen stupid/boring questions from a buncha stupid/boring guys, and then go on with my week.
Me: Ah, modern romance. Where do I stack up?
Her: (laughing) Are you sure you want to know?
Me: That’s why I asked.
Her: Charming. Handsome.  But shallow. Unable to commit.
Me: (nodding) Seems accurate.

Me: Well, I don’t mean this sound overly romantic, but if you’ll allow me to be maudlin and sentimental…
Her: Let’s hear it.
Me: (nodding) The universe, all of reality, is a storm. Love is the eye of that storm; the one bit of peace in an otherwise cruel and dispassionate world that doesn’t give a shit if we live or die. We’re born naked and confused, without claws, teeth, or fur. Nothing. We only survived because someone loved us enough to make sure we did. I don’t get why someone would want less than that. It’s like someone turning down a billion dollars. Yet, they throw away love for stupid shit as if it isn’t the most rare and valuable thing in existence. And that, Counselor, is what I want. Something I had once and was taken from me.

Location: Solas, of course
Mood: exhausted
Music: Put your arms ’round my neck, and your heart on my chest (Spotify)
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Cooking vs. Cleaning

A weekend of carbs

Back when I hightailed it to California, my brother noted that he was gonna be here just a few weeks later.

Him: I mean, I’m back in NYC in March, just a couple of weeks from now.
Me: I know. I just have to do some things where you are. Besides, it’ll be good to see you anywho.

He arrived the other day.

Like most of the time when he’s here, that essentially meant days of pizza, since that’s the one thing that’s (clearly) better here than it is there.

Chad, Pac, and I shot another series of Scenic Fights videos this past weekend. We’re trying out some new things with a new format. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it.

Here’s a picture of Chad being an absolute badass…

…and of him being very domestic.

He’ll make some rich, elderly woman quite happy someday.

Shot 11 in the collage above was decidedly un-fun and my fault for having the pad so low.

Anywho, my domestic skills lie in cooking, not cleaning. To this end, I hired the ABFF’s cleaner to help clean up around the house while I baked the kiddo some Peanut Butter Oatmeal cookies.

This was one carb-y weekend, lemme tell ya.

Him: My room’s beautiful! She did such a great job!
Me: Do you think you could keep it clean?
Him: Can’t she just come here every day?
Me: Well, this has backfired.

As for him, I brought him to the Surgeon’s place for an impromptu (adult) birthday party.

Her: What do you think of her? (shows me a picture)
Me: Whoa. She’s gorgeous. What’s wrong with her?
Her: (laughing) Nothing! She’s a dancer.
Me: OK, but looks fade. Is she wealthy? (to the other women sitting at the table) I’m sorry, I’m terribly shallow. (pointing at self) In my defense, these looks aren’t going to last forever. (table laughs)

The kids had their own fun…

It amuses me how many people want to set me up with their friends. They should really read this blog to disabuse them of that notion.

On that note…

Me: You want to fix me up with a White House Fellow? I own a gym, why would you do that to her?
Him: (laughs) You have your moments.
Me: Ah, fun and games. Accurate. That I can provide.

Did manage to meet up with someone for drinks but that’s another story for another time.

The boy and I also managed to meet up with the NFL Player for even more carbs along with some of his other friends.

After this whirlwind weekend, and because it’s Daylight Savings, I took some of Alison’s meds that the cleaning lady found in the fridge.

Nuthing happened so I took a second dose. Long story short, I overslept for the first time in ages.

Him: Daddy, daddy! Wake up! You didn’t hear me?
Me: (groggily) Evidently not. What time is it?
Him: Late! We have to get to school!
Me: Is institutionalized learning really all it’s cracked up to be?
Him: Wake up!
Me: Blargh…

Location: earlier today, thinking WW3 was starting in the UWS
Mood: so tired
Music: Should you try again, should you just give up? (Spotify)
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Getting random gifts

Still fighting my demons

My instructor and I run this FB kali group and, just for fun, I posted something a while ago that went something like, “If you’d like to buy me a random gift, under no circumstances buy me these knives…” and I then proceeded to list all of the knives I wanted.

Welp, no less than three people ended up buying me a knife – four if you count my buddy Miller’s gift for me in December.

One guy was from my gym and just handed me one, another girl dropped one off with me, and the last one was mailed to me.

That’s pretty wild.

Since it worked the first time: People of the internet, now I would like a wealthy, hot, busty, brilliant, woman that likes to clean but hates to cook between the ages of 32-36 that doesn’t think I’m the worst person on the planet.

It’s that last bit where I run into issues.

Although, not everyone I’ve ever dated thinks I’m the worst.

Been chatting with one lady and we’ve been trading notes as to how awful dating in NYC/LA is.

Doesn’t matter if you’re a dude or dudette, dating stinks. But, the alternative is to start eating cat food and forgetting one’s pants, evidently…


I’m spending waaaaaayy too much time watching the horrors unfold in Ukraine.

Been asking my Russian/Ukranian friends to translate things for me but everything is awful no matter how you translate it.

As you might imagine, Lviv is from…Lviv. She doesn’t want to talk about any of it and I get that. Ditto for BrightBea.

Much closer to home, I’m dealing with much smaller worries. It seems that the boy’s getting a pretty bad bout of eczema. It’s been a while now, but I was hoping with the warmer weather that it’d clear up, but it’s not.

I’ve got humidifiers running 24/7 here because I had a friend that had just one of the worst cases of it on the planet and it’s pretty terrifying vis-a-vis her quality of life.

Definitely don’t want anything like that for the kid. He’s got enough to worry about.

That’s him with me visiting a friend’s place. Brought the rum to spread the gospel.

Still, he’s handling it life pretty well.

Him: After soccer yesterday, I heard one of the moms saying that he’s the happiest kid they’ve ever seen. You must be doing something right.
Me: It’s the light beer in his thermos.
Him: (laughing) My son told his speech therapist that his fave thing is to drink beer with his dad.
Me: When does Child Services come to take him away?
Him: Meh. I’m not worried. You’ll be my lawyer, right?
Me: Oh man, if that’s the case, you’re screwed.

On a related note…

Her: Honestly, for your dating profile, you should just write: “Manhattan homeowner, amazing shape, amazing dad,” and be done with it.
Me: (laughing) Every dad thinks they’re a great dad.
Her: Yeah. But you really are. I honestly don’t get why you’re single.
Me: Where to begin…?

We shot more episodes of Scenic Fights this past weekend but the kicker’s that we did it at the gym.

We’re experimenting with a buncha things, including have Pac run some episodes as he’s our Judo coach.

Fingers crossed everything will work out ok.

Still fighting my demons but I don’t believe them (anymore).

Location: earlier today, taking a cab home with a CEO
Mood: ambitious
Music: I believe I’m on my way up and I’m going (Spotify)
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The cool kids (2X)

Sprinting away

My mom misses my dad a lot these days. It’s the holidays, I think.

Her: It’s been four years since they left. Time moves so fast.
Me: The hours drag but the years sprint away. Yes.

While the gym was closed, Chad swung by to go over some plans for 2022.

The weather’s been freakishly warm and nice in the city lately; we’re obviously going to hell in a hand basket what with climate change and all but I suppose one takes any win one can.

We got a salad and then went to get a cup of coffee.

One of our students lived around the way so I hit him up; he’s the one with the second nicest apartment I’ve ever been to.

Me: Are you around for a cup of joe with me and Chad in the hood?
Him: Now? Yes! I am a cool kid…
Me: Thank god, we need at least one in the group.

We ended up going to his place and chatting for a spell, which was interesting because he had a different perspective on a few things as compared to Chad and me.

The views from his pad didn’t hurt.

The next day, I went to get my COVID booster (finally) and chatted to the girl ahead of me.

Me: Not everyone can pull off a red leather jacket.
Her: Only cool kids can!
Me: Oh, then we have a problem.

I got both the flu and COVID shots in the same arm; zero effects on me as a whole but my arm hurt like the dickens.

Today, I took my first class in the gym after the construction was done. Looked like a million bucks.

Me: Well, that wasn’t cheap but the guy did a killer job.
Him: And the mats feel great too.
Me: Considering how much we spent, they’d better.

Back before my world turned to shit, the weeks between Thanksgiving and New Years were a whirl of parties to meet women and clients.

In a sense, I’m back there again, but mainly to numb the pain of holidays more than anything else.

Got invited to seven parties just this week alone. Went to two of them so far.

One was my law firm, and their annual office holiday party. Even though I’ve not been steadily active with them since Alison got sick, I was touched to still be invited to all the reindeer games.

They ordered porterhouses from Benjamin Steakhouse and I ate most of it, I think.

It was a more interesting party than we had pre-COVID for a number of reasons, including that one of our buddies made partner and we had a slew of new, young attorneys in the office.

Her: Anyone want to go outside for a smoke? This one is covered with gold leaf.
Boss: Well, it is legal…
Me: I, personally, am offended by this suggestion. I will go and supervise.

I’d forgotten was it was like to be a young and optimistic attorney.

Seems like a million years ago.

I’d not met most of them but they’d heard stories of me so it was kinda like they knew me but I just met them. I felt a bit like a celebrity.

But I had to leave early with my boss because I had another party to attend, this time with an old client.

On the way there, a busker was playing With Arms Wide Open by Creed and I thought of my son.

He was on my mind when I got there and looked for my friend when I met this pretty blonde.

Me: Where’s Jen?
Her: Oh, she got wrecked and left early.
Me: Well, you’ll have to keep me company, then. She’s the only person I know here. My name’s Logan.
Her: (laughs) Hi, Logan…

She was 23 (of course) and a huge fan of illicit pharmaceuticals. But loads of fun. That’s all I’ll share for now.

It was late when I got home. Fun Logan and alla that.

I’m still trying to figure out where I belong, if I belong anywhere.

Suppose as long as with the kid, I belong somewhere.

Location: earlier today, talking about the UCC and Kokomo just off Grand Central
Mood: curious
Music: I hope he’s not like me, I hope he understands (Spotify)
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Rosalita

My definition of success

For someone that doesn’t like to be social, lately, I’ve been more social than I intended.

Her: I can stop by with some wine.
Me: I’m not a wine drinker.
Her: But I am. Keep me company.

The gym’s been closed for the past few days to do some construction but on the last day we were open, my buddy Miller and I grabbed a cup of joe afterward.

Me: I think I have PTSD from everything that went down.
Him: (laughing) Dude, you’re the poster child for PTSD.

He told me I should try meditating to try to deal with the insomnia and intrusive thoughts.

It’s hard to quiet my racing mind but I did it because I promised I would, and I always keep my promises.

Besides, it was nice that he cared. Can’t say it was life-changing but I’ll try to keep it up.

Afterward, had dinner with a new friend.

That weekend, met up with a buddy of mine in Chinatown with our kids. We were playing phone tag for a while so it was good we finally got together.

He’s about six-foot-three so his kid, despite being a year younger than mine, was exactly the same height.

Him: What did you expect? You’re not gonna raise a basketball player.
Me: How dare you!

Brought everyone to the same Cantonese BBQ place that Chad and I go to before our Scenic Fights shoots. As always, I thought I ordered too much, but we ended up killing everything.

Him: I’m in contract for a condo on the UES. $3.2 million, plus I gotta cover all the transfer taxes and both attorneys.
Me: Jesus Christ, that’s a lotta scratch. And that was fast too.
Him: (laughing) Been looking for over a decade, figured it was time to just do it. It’s pushing our budget but it had to be done. There are only 80 units in the whole building and they were selling out fast. Oh, they have a pool so you two should come by.
Me: You’ll regret saying that.

Afterward, we brought the kids to get some dessert. It was nice that they got along so well.

We then headed out to see my mom. This is my son running down a hill to see her.

It was sweet.

While he hung out with his cousins, I met up with another buddy of mine who just got a new whip.

Him: I totally overpaid. For what I paid for this, I coulda gotten a BMW last year. Damn supply-chain issues.
Me: Had I known it’d be like this, I woulda kept my ride instead of giving it away.

He was in a mood because his girl’s dad didn’t approve of him because he wasn’t born into wealth, even though he had a great job and loved the dude’s daughter.

I told him about Rosalita (Come Out Tonight) by Bruce Springsteen. The song tells a story about a fella that loves a girl but the family hates him because he’s a musician.

In it, Springsteen sings these, somewhat arrogant but, great lines that go:

I want to be your man
Someday we’ll look back on this and it will all seem funny
But now you’re sad, your mama’s mad
And your papa says he knows that I don’t (have any money)
Whoa, your papa says he knows (that I don’t have any money)
Well, tell him this is his last chance to get his daughter in a fine romance
Because the record company, Rosie, just gave me a big advance.

Me: What can you do but live your best life? Years ago, I uploaded this to YouTube because Alison and I talked about what being a success meant. (played the above video for him) That’s pretty much the only thing I’ve ever uploaded to YouTube prior to Scenic Fights. But that’s my definition right there.
Him: I’m not there yet.
Me: You will be. The best revenge is to have a successful, happy life. With his daughter.

Afterward, he drove me back to the kid and my family, but not before I grabbed Burger King for the kids.

I ordered so much food that they needed four people to put it together.

There’s a lot more to that story but nothing you’d be interested in hearing.

The kid was pooped by the time we went home.

Him: Can we do all that again?
Me: Sure. Be the type of person that people want to hang out with, and you’ll always have people asking you to do just that.
Him: (sleepily) OK, papa.

Location: having coffee and tea overlooking Central Park with Vazquez and Crowley at 3PM on a Tuesday afternoon
Mood: busy
Music: Now, I know your mama, she don’t like me (Spotify)
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Same as everyone else

My addictive personality

Me: I’ve lived here close to 30 years.
Him: How’s that possible?
Me: Did it the same way as everyone else: At a rate of 60 minutes an hour, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. That’s how.

My friends around the way have the nicest apartment I’ve ever been to – on the Upper West Side or otherwise.

But, recently, I met up with a fella from my gym that has a pad along Central Park with some jaw-dropping views. My friends around the way still have the nicer pad but…man, it’s close.

Some other people stopped by and we all chatted for a bit.

It’s weird, I never have a problem meeting new people but who stays and who leaves my Venn Diagram is always a surprise to me.

While my friends make fun of me for my rules, I do think that it’s why so many people are willing to enter my Venn Diagram.

Because they know that I have standards I hold myself to. And those around me.

For example, there’s a reason why I’ve never done any hard drugs or have a strict three-date maximum rule: Because I have an addictive personality.

I, very easily, get addicted to things, ideas, people. Knew this since I was a kid and it was part of why I was a fat kid – I was addicted to food.

And, while it’s almost always a negative, it can be a positive: To wit, I got addicted to losing weight at 14, to the point that I went from 183 pounds to 123 pounds in six months. I lost 10 pounds a month, 2.5 pounds a week.

I got addicted to that number: 2.5. I had to lose 2.5 pounds a week. It wasn’t until a girl named Julia went up to me and said, “I’m worried about you. You don’t look well” that I realized that I was doing it again.

      • I made it a goal to read every book one side of a library once. I did that.
      • I wanted to teach myself German to high-intermediate. I did that.
      • I wanted to know how to fix a car so I built one.

Never had a drop of alcohol or drugs in college. Didn’t eat fast food for 13 years. Never cursed either. Because of my rules. Shockingly, I still managed to have friends. Dear ones.

In fact, I didn’t curse for 28 years. I started again the day she died.

Fuck.

Anywho, the friend I was chatting with about this dealt with his own demons in his life and they cost him a great deal. He was married to two models and both marriages disintegrated.

He’s very wealthy but that matters less to him than his own peace of mind, so he lives a pretty simple life.

As for me, after she died, my demons old gods all came calling and I was happy to see them. They, Gradgirl, and Daisy kept me company for a while.

Oh, my friend that I was just talking about has the third nicest apartment I’ve ever been in.

I need to up my game.

Him: Would you be willing to date someone that makes more money that you? I mean…a lot more money?
Me: Willing? That’s a weird question. Do you think my parents raised a moron? That’s the dream. (pointing at self) These looks aren’t gonna last forever, man.

Location: earlier tonight, being told I don’t look my age
Mood: so…cold…
Music: Love me when I’m gone (Spotify)
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A lawyer, by trade

Waiting for the holidays to be over

Her: I read your blog, the one about your wife and the five dollars. Are you a writer?
Me: No, I’m a lawyer, by trade. You?
Her: I’m a journalist. You write beautifully. You should do it again.

Met a woman, recently, that came across my blog, somehow. It’s a different world now.

When I first started this blog, there wasn’t Facebook, Instagram, or any social media to speak of.

Now it’s too easy to find and know everything about me so I have to be much more careful.

I dated a journalist once. That was an unmitigated disaster.

Seven months before Alison got sick, told you that I was stopping this blog. Didn’t tell you that it was because Alison was pregnant – after all, we lost so many babies, why jinx this one too?

Besides, we were planning on making major changes.

I was going to work remotely but pare down my workload, as was she. The two of us were going to sell the apartment and move out to NJ to raise the kid with green grass and shade.

I was gonna write more fiction. The thing with writing is that your mind can only crank out so much quality stuff before you’re just churning.

That’s part of why I don’t post every day; I’d rather have one or two good posts than a series of crappy ones. So, I stopped the blog to focus on writing.

In the end, that was the one pregnancy that stuck and we thought we’d finally be ok.

But it all turned to shit anyway.

Now, I just have zero – absolutely zero – desire to write do anything beyond this blog, hang with the kid, and run the gym.

And even then, it’s always the same thing, a blur of people and things that I barely remember.

Voltaire once said that, Madness is to think of too many things in succession too fast, or of one thing too exclusively.

If that’s the criteria, then I’m clearly starkers. Clearly.

I’m dreaming all the time again – some good, some less so.

Saw my family recently. My brother’s back in town; his girl’s coming in later on this week. She’s sweet. My dad woulda liked her. I hope they end up together.

Met a stylish young woman on the ride home. She wore bell bottoms and shoes with sapphires on them. She thought the kid was adorbs.

But I’m not me right now so I just thanked for the company and carried my sleepy son home. She laughed and waved goodbye to us. The kid waved back, sleepily.

Him: I’m so tired.
Me: Good. Then maybe you’ll have some nice dreams.
Him: She was pretty. Is she your friend?
Me: Maybe in a different life.

It’s Thanksgiving soon.

I just want the holidays to be over.

Location: with my mom, telling her that I loved her
Mood: dreaming
Music: damn that’s stylish. Smiling, don’t pay attention to the mileage (Spotify)
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I won the lottery

The pyramids were white

Him: It’s a regret of mine, that I never met Alison.
Me: You woulda loved her. She was great.
Him: I also really didn’t know you before she got sick.
Me: I was…better.

Recently spoke to three different women that I spent time with after Alison died, purely by happenstance.

They each told me, in their own ways, that I was not very nice to them (to put it mildly). I can see that. I’ve repeatedly said throughout the years that I’m not a very nice person.

It’s somewhat related to that old quote from Margaret Atwood I told you about years ago:

Wanting to meet a writer because you like their books is like wanting meet a duck because you like pate.

I’ve always been a good writer and a bad person. Suppose some things are constant.

First: I really liked you and you took advantage of me.
Me: I wish I could tell you I remembered or that I didn’t do it. But, that does sound reminiscent of me. For what it’s worth,  I’m sorry.

Oddly, that Atwood entry was about kindness, and these women reminded me just how unkind I can be. Not that I need much reminding.

Second: You made me feel uncomfortable.
Me: You were never anything but kind to me. I’m sorry. Let me know how I can do better.

It made me think of the more recent entry I wrote where I told you that all those Greek and Roman statues you see as white were all painted in bright colours once.

On the flip side, for 3,800 years, the pyramids were a bright white. Then in 1303 CE, an earthquake happened that changed their look to what you know now.

Been working with Chad every single day since the middle of July. I find it odd that he only knows this broken version of me.

I think I was better when she was alive. Something good died in me when she died, I think. Maybe the best parts of me.

Him: You’ve been a good friend to me.
Me: Have I? I wonder about that. I have my own horse in this race.

Just wanna have enough good left in me to raise the boy so he’s better than me.

My mom also broke my heart this past weekend, but for an entirely different reason.

Her: Today’s Chinese Father’s Day. You know, your dad would always buy a lottery ticket and he’d always win.
Me: Really? I never knew that.
Her: Oh, nothing big, nothing big just a few dollars here and there but he won a lot. I never won anything. (quietly) Well that’s not true I guess I won the lottery when I met him.
Me: (sighs) I think you both won.

Location: riding around Riverside with the boy, early this morning
Mood: resigned
Music: Damaged, but I’m copin’, holding on and hopin’ (Spotify)
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It’s 2021, dontchaknow?

Ever True

Been talking to the Heiress quite a bit. She offered to send me the full amount of the theft.

Me: What? That’s insane! No.
Her: I already cut you a check, Logan. It’s fine. It’s just money.

I didn’t take it, though. Although, that was before the flood.

After the flood, she was concerned about our staying in the apartment and kindly offered to fly the boy and me down to Miami in her jet to stay at her home there for a bit.

If I wasn’t trying to keep an eye on things here, I woulda said yes.

Unfortunately, we had another misunderstanding that I’m still trying to wrap my head around. Communication is the hardest thing between any two people.

The thing is, both parties have to at least want to try and understand each other. I suppose it’s just easier to think that the other is a selfish narcissist, though.

Shame, though. Don’t meet too many smoking hot billionaires in my regular day-to-day.

Meeting the Heiress reminded me of two, very lovely, women I met way before I started this blog.

One was the daughter of a film director.

She had crashed her Lambo right before we met so she was a little banged up. Evidently, I was super nice to her, so she developed a crush on me. She told me that if I moved with her to Singapore, I would never have to work another day in my life.

Gotta say, as a 20-something, was kinda intrigued. But, I ended up saying, no. I did crash at her pad for a while before I locked down my current (flooding) pad.

Before that, I met a designer that had a good amount of success on her own, coupled with money from her father.

She also told me something along the lines of, “If you stay with me, you can just do what you want all day…as long as you love me.”

The problem was that I didn’t love her, despite all her great qualities. I didn’t love either of them.

Love’s a weird thing. There’s no rhyme or reason for why you fall in love with one person but not another.

But man, when you find love, it’s something else. I wouldn’t have given up the two women I actually loved for anything or anyone.

On that note, I spoke to the Doctor – whom I also dated in my 20s – briefly on the phone this week because I still manage one of her properties for her. Purely business but it was the first time I’d heard her voice in years. It was a head trip.

It was something a lot like love with her, but not love.

As I write this, I remember a night where Buckley and I drank with one of her uncles and he said that he would buy me a yellow Porche when we got married. I remember wondering why it had to be yellow. In hindsight, he probably had one he had to get rid of.

Lost touch with the FDD and the Designer but I last heard they were happy, as is the Doctor. That’s good.

Maybe I don’t fuck everything up.

Or maybe they’re not fucked up because they didn’t end up with me?

Don’t answer that.

Things like Porches, Lamborginis, and private jets are nice.

But I’d trade it all in a heartbeat for family and a quiet middle-class life with the boy and my person.

I came back to find that my fridge was busted.

My luck rings ever true.

Him: Well, that’s your problem right there, your motherboard burned out.
Me: The fridge has a motherboard?
Him: Yeah, man, it’s 2021, dontchaknow?

Location: a cafe, waiting for someone that was waiting for me at another cafe
Mood: suboptimal
Music: Ask me how I am, I’m getting by (Spotify)
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Categories
dating personal

Fun Logan

We have hot dogs here

The last two weeks have been a struggle for reasons that we don’t need to get into but you can probably figure out.

One thing I think about a lot is whether it’s worth it or not to keep this blog up. Because I’m 100% certain that it’s this blog that triggered the events that lead to everything going down.

On the flip side, I’ve gotten so many friends and amazing relationships as a direct result of this blog.

And it’s almost like my second brain in that it reminds me of memories I had in my possible pasts.

So, I wonder if I just start heavily censoring myself and edit out anything too personal OR I take it down and just switch over to something like Twitter where I write less and perhaps reveal less.

I dunno.

There’s actually a lot I want to tell you but it’s all a jumble of events and dates in my head that I suppose I’ll have to sort out before I post about it, if at all.

Because of everything, ended up flaking on everyone that I was seeing the past several weeks including the CEO…

Me: Man, I am really digging your positivity.
Her: Likewise!

…and the blond banker…

Her: I don’t like guys I can walk all over.
Me: (laughing) OK, be mean to you. Got it.
Her: (continuing) I like brilliant ivy league hedge fund guys. The problem is that everyone has so many options out there.
Me: My brother said something funny once: “People weren’t meant to have this many food or life partner options.

…among others. But it’s probably for the best because my mind is wrapped up in everything that’s been going on.

Did manage to out for the weekend and meet some new people but that’s another story for another time as well.

Her: You’re leaving? Don’t leave, you’re fun.
Me: That’s me. Fun Logan.

Barrel o’laughs, me. Yeah.

That’s me.

Two people I know only spend the 4th of July with family and I think that’s a sweet sentiment.

My boy’s away so it gave me an excuse to stay home with my thoughts.

Him: Calling in to check up on you. You sure you don’t wanna come out? Everyone would love to see you.
Me: Nah, I’m good.
Him: Sitting at home thinking of everything you’ve lost isn’t going to help anything, Logan.
Me: It’s a distinction without a difference: Doesn’t matter where I am, I think about everything and everyone I’ve lost.
Him: True. But we have hot dogs here.
Me: (laughing) Compelling…

Speaking of family, this was a nice three-minute video about my uncle’s ice cream shop.

Been thinking about moving to NJ more and more these days.

Then again, I think I just really need to get out of the basement of my brain.

Location: just told you
Mood: heartbroken
Music: I know there’s a chance I still get burned but I’ll take it all (Spotify)
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