Location: three hours ago, leaving office
Mood: drained
Music: got this crazy dream of stripping down to truth and bone

All the static electricity in my building somehow accumulates in my room. That’s cause about once an hour I’ll touch something in my room and a huge spark’ll jump from me to that thing.

My roommates must think it’s strange that I randomly scream out, “Dammit!” by the hour, on the hour from my room.


Speaking of roommates, might have a vacancy. I live in a 1,700 SF duplex and the room is a 500 SF room with private whirlpool bath, separate shower equipped with all the fixings and the best high pressure shower head and three six-foot closets. Email, please.


Speaking of static, got some from a friend over his buddy. Basically, buddy’s a jerk and my friend admits he’s a tool. In fact, the only good thing that can be said about him is that he’s entertaining. Like a clown. And that they’ve known each other for X amount of years.

I get both reasons – but it’s a poor excuse for poor character. Who’s got the time?

As a kid, heard that Nixon was playing golf with Nicklaus one day and missed a swing. So Nixon looks around and says something like, It’s just us, that didn’t count, yeah? Nicklaus thought it was weird but was like, Whatever. Years later, Nicklaus was watching TV when Watergate happened, and he said that he knew it was Nixon. He knew it. Cause he saw what Nixon’s character was.

(If you read me, you know I hate saying facts unless I can back it up, so the closest I could find to this story was this).

And that’s the thing. My buddy doesn’t see it. But I see it. People’s true character comes out in the little things. It’s how I knew my ex was cheating on me.

Got extra weight? Work out. Got no dough? Knuckle up and make some scratch. Got poor character? Oooooh…dude, sorry. There’s no cure for straight-up tool.

For serious; more than anything, feel pity for him. Cause there’s no cure for poor character and the Devil and I know this: y’can’t hide who you really are.

For better or for worse, we both know that we can’t help being the sum of our possible pasts. Which, is unfortunate, cause I’d like to leave a lot more of me behind me.


YASYCTAI: Remember when I said, Get ridda mosta your jerks? Y’really should. (time/3 pts)

Hustling in Seville

Location: yest, all over midtown
Mood: restless
Music: see video below

: (patting me on head) That’s my old man.

Spent the day trying to nail down meetings for scratch. Was almost a complete failure but I saw Heartgirl for some caffeine so that made the day go a little better.

When I was 23, managed to convince a company named Wall Street Equities to hire me over IBM and Anderson Consulting to set up 75 NASDAQ certified computers. Did it on time and under budget. They referred me to Tiffany’s, Ziff-Davis, Holland&Holland;, NatWest and a buncha other clients.

Last big tech client was for the Washington Post; hooked up a network with 50 nodes for them on Madison. I was…26, maybe?

Whenever some VP would walk in, they’d ask who was in charge and the old Italian consultants I subcontracted’d point at me and say, That Chinese kid. Made me laugh.

Somehow, became an old man. Still hustling though. Suppose things never change.

S’ok – (a) getting older is better than the alternative and (b) my brain still works the same way.

Her: We could catch an opera.
Me: That’s all in Italian, I don’t understand Italian.
Her: That’s not true, some are in German.
Me: (thinking) Can we see an opera that only plays songs from Looney Toons? Y’know…Barber of Seville, Flight of the Bumblebee, Ride of the Valkyries?
Her: (mute silence)

Me: I’ll take that as a No

YASYCTAI: Hustle. Cause if you want it, you gotta hustle. (time/2 pts)

First-tierers, second-stringers

Location: a yellow couch
Mood: wondering
Music: It`s up to you All I can do, i`ve done But mem`ries won`t go

: I was worried you were one of those religious nuts.
Me: I am one of those religious nuts.

Been busy trying to get my life in order. More craziness that I’ll tell you, as I always do, in due time.

Saw Heartgirl and I had a long discussion about our beliefs. It’s bothersome that all people know of my religion’re the shrill caricatures.

She met somea my first-tier friends. We’ve all got our first-tierers and our second-stringers – sorta like our front-runners and back-burners, yeah? They gave her the thumbs up over some watermelon soju down by St. Marks. Caught the first snowfall of the season as we walked past Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgwick to Katsmw‘s for some red, red wine fore heading home. Katsmw, like Heartgirl, loves sports while her husband and I don’t watch any sports. The two shared more than that in common but those’re their stories and not mine.

Sunday she and I caught brunch around the way where she somehow lost her copy of Vogue. Losing a copy of Vogue’s like losing a ten-pound weight; they just don’t disappear. On the way back, I was holding a copy of the Sunday Times out when a bird pooped on it. We both couldn’t stop laughing and almost collapsed on the street.

Told her that a bird pooping on you’s good luck so I bought an instant win lottery card for a $1 and won…$1. Of course.

Sometimes, wonder about my role in her life. Suppose time will tell. I don’t try to hide who/what I am: a nerdy, religious nut that plays/watches no sports (that don’t involve one-on-one violence), talks a lot with his hands, and is overly concerned with rum, trivia, quotes, stories, gadgets, nice clothes, and minutia.

It’s 2009 soon. I’d like some win, please. Some real win, espankyuverymuch…

YASYCTAI: It’s cold. Did you donate those clothes? (60 mins/2 pts)

Cursing buildings and mountains

Another day, another goodbye

Her: I think everyone has a person. (later) Would it matter? If I ate a shrimp or tried some fishy sushi? I don’t think it would.
Me: No – because you are who you are and I don’t want you to change because of me.
Her: I guess I really know that you aren’t my person. Sometimes I forget, though.
Me: (pause) I hope you find your person. You deserve to find your person.
Her: I hope you find yours too.
Me: (thinking) You’re a good person.
Her: I didn’t do anything good.
Me: (long pause) You wished me well. That’s something good.

In addition to that very, very sad conversation, also lost my biggest client today, my computer died and either broke my leg or tore my ACL. Crashed at the ‘rents and ConEd was doing repairs so I took a cold shower. The moment I was done, got a knock on my door.

Him: Hey just wanted to tell you that the hot water is back.
Me: (dripping wet) Of course it is.

Not a good day. But there’s this old saying that it’s better to light a candle than curse the darkness. Ended my night with a nice conversation that I’ll keep to myself but made things seem a little less dark.

Hope you had a better day than I did.

Location: my childhood bed
Mood: beat tired
Music: You’ve been good to me; have i been good to you?

The dark clouds are looming

Location: 2:00, tossing and turning in bed
Mood: le tired
Music: When will I know that I really can’t go

Expletive laden but oh so funny – sorry if it screws with your page. Thanks Kate, I needed the laugh.

Met up with old friends at Cafe DeVille the other night.

Him: So I’ve been asking girls how much it would take for them to pose nude for some tasteful photographs. Seems the going rate’s about $25,000.
Me: $25,000? I’d drop trou $5,000.
Him: Please – you’d do it for this drink here.
Me: (standing up and unbuckling)
Everyone: Whoa, whoa, whoa, Logan!!

Bryson and I spoke the other day. Should note that his wife’s beautiful and the chief resident of a local hospital.

Him: Whatcha you doing calling my wife!?
Me: Crap, you caught us!
Him: (laughing) How’re you?
Me: (pause) I’ve been better.
Him: (later) You’re luckier than most people: You’re living the single man’s dream. You live in Manhattan. And very few people go through life with even a handful of true friends. You’re blessed, brother.

I know it. God gave me everything. Just working through some things.

My mom called me. She said that the funeral hall couldn’t fit all the people that showed up for the funeral. Turns out that grandma died of an enlarged heart. Find that strangely fitting. Shut the door to my office and quietly broke down.

Saw Heartgirl for dinner in Jersey by the pier cause she’s leaving. Was beautiful out but we could see lightning over the city in the distance. Even though she doesn’t speak German, I told her, Die dunklen Wolken sind bedrohlich.

I’m le tired

Well, that’s weird…

The time I almost electrocute myself…twice

Well, that’s weird, I thought as I peered into my aquarium, where’re all the fish? I looked closer and they were all floating. That’s not good. Interestingly, little bubbles were all over my plants – so many in fact, that one was freed from the gravel and floated up to the top.

Been busy and away a lot, but I had an electronic feeder so they should have been fine. Sighing, I grabbed the net and began to reach into the tank to fish soma the poor buggers out when: ZZZZAP!!!!

I got a nasty, nasty shock and jumped back. I thought, That can’t be. So I did what any red-blooded guy would do: I did it again

BAM! Another shock.

Dammit. The heater had fallen into the water and electrocuted all my fish.

Wish I could draw sometimes, because I think my life would make a good cartoon. (I actually did just that! I posted about my heater mishap on with a few illustrations.)


Should be here until Friday for some work. I went to college there a long time ago. I’m looking forward to pigging out at the food hall – because, deep-down, I’m a fatty-fat-fat.

Location: 20:47 yest, exiting the subway
Mood: working
Music: oooh I really liked you, must have been your attitude
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I’m a hazard to myself / Fiona / The War

Location: on my family couch watching the tube
Mood: slightly poisoned
Music: always in a fight cuz I can’t do nothin right

I almost accidentally killed myself this Christmas.

See, I spent the weekend moving stuff into my new office and wrestled on Saturday. My neck was killing me. So, at the rents, I popped about four tabs of naproxen. Then at night, I took about four tabs of Tylenol PM. I woke up the next morning and popped two more tabs of naproxen cause my neck was still busted.

BUT it turns out my mom actually ran out of naproxen and put Tylenol into the naproxen bottle for reasons she doesn’t remember. So I took 5000mg ((4+4+2)*500mg) of Tylenol within six hours – a potentially lethal dose. Luckily, my brother realized this before I took any more.

Man, I’m my own worst enemy.


Fiona and I aren’t right for each other. It’s not her fault – as usual, it’s mostly me. My hands shake so much that I’m only able to use about 10% of my night shots. She’s already gone.

I need another camera with an anti-shake feature like this, but fast. The pictures I take remind me that the things I write about really happened.


I’m watching The War with my father and brother. Crazy isn’t it? To see how close we are to angels and animals at the same time. I forgot to breathe more than a few times.

Seems like some things never change.

Dunno why, but I find it appropriate for the holidays.

Hit or miss

Met another woman and asked her to draw a picture for me

Her: Will you call her?
Me: Possibly. These thing are hit or miss.
Her: But you got her number, right?
Me: Better.
Her: Better?
Me: I told her to draw a picture of herself. This way, I’ll know which one she is.

Location: 2AM, Sway
Mood: Sotted
Music: That pretty red dress
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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