Mobile Phone Food Photo Post for Friday

Headed out to the Wilds of NJ to meet some friends

 

Met up with Nadi and some friends in Morristown NJ for dinner last night. No real reason, we just meet up every so often.

Me: Can I get a pina colada? (table groans) What? It’s summertime. And: rum.
Nadi: I wonder if there have umbrellas here.
Waitress: (with drink) I had him make a little fruit garnish for you.
Me: Sweeeeeeeet.

Also ended up having some mussels with pomme frites (good, but I liked mine better)…

 

And chicken and waffles – which was the only thing we didn’t enjoy…

 

Before I took the train home.

 

Summer’s already here. I’ll need more rum.

Location: At the start of summer, sigh
Mood: heated
Music: Stylin my metaphors when I formulate my flows (uh)
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Travelogue (Kinda) – Downtown NYC

We love weddings and staycations; even better together

A buddy of mine that’s made a number of appearances in this blog over the years under another name got married this past weekend downtown.

The wife and I decided to book a hotel downtown a while ago so that we could have a staycation. But we were worried after the storm hit that the Hilton Doubletree downtown might be damaged so we called and they said everything was fine.

We found out later that this was only partly true.

Getting around downtown with a cane and a buncha bags wasn’t easy, and there was definitely a strong odor of gas/anti-freeze/oil in the air. Everywhere we went, there were ConEd workers and pumps chugging along. Piles and piles of rubbish everywhere.

But we made it to our hotel in one piece.

The thing that was partly true about the hotel was that only two of the three elevators were working. We didn’t think that was going to be a big deal but it ended up meaning long waits for everything.

Me with a cane meant that we couldn’t take the stair so it was a whole lotta hurry up and wait.

We decided to just stay in the hotel for dinner and I ordered myself fried chicken with waffles before crashing.

The next morning, we ordered some breakfast and then went out for a walk. Downtown is really completely different from rest of the city in that it’s streets are a lot like Boston or Philly because of this massive fire in 1776.

We couldn’t believe how much the water rose during the hurricane.

But it was a sunny, if not cold, day so the city looked like it was getting back to normal.

We then went over to Battery Gardens where we sat for a Jewish ceremony complete with my Asian buddy smashing glass at the end and getting hoisted up on a chair.

Saw a number of old friends that I’d not seen in a while.

Also, isn’t it funny when you find out that you have a friend in common with people that you didn’t know knew the same people? That seems to happen more and more these days.

The guy with the shaved head below insisted on getting me food while I sat and nursed my leg – what a mensch! Between him and my wife, I pretty much just sat back and received food and drink. That’s the way to live, my friends.

I’m leaning on a cane below; I wanted one with a silver handle and a fur hat for the festive occasion but the wife put a stop to that idea.

She ruins all my great ideas.

The next day, took almost half-an-hour for the elevator to arrive but we made it home soon enough. Spent the rest of the day nursing my leg; the trip home wiped me out.

Life is slowly getting back to normal for us as well. As it were.

Me: Morning, honey. Oh shoot, I’ve got to call that chicken farmer this morning.
Her: Morning. Wait, what?

Location: planning a trip to an industrial farm
Mood: better
Music: But someone picked you from the bunch
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California 2012 Travelogue: Day 3

A broken chair, ramen, and home

Jet Blue airplane in Burbank

Her: Morning!
Me: Morning – I need coffee and Mexican food.
Her: We have lots of leftover pizza.
Me: OK.

Wake up early. Damn insomnia. Sit down to chat with my brother’s girlfriend fiancee in the morning. As we’re talking about me falling down the stairs yesterday, my chair breaks and I come crashing down on that same knee.

Man, I swear I’m darned.

Broken chair in LA

After icing it for a bit more, putter around the house. Wanna keep it low-key so I give my buddy Lorin a call – we’ve not seen each other in years. He drives over and we go to a local coffee shop to catch up.

I tell him of the troubles and he tells me of his.

Him: …and then I got remarried.
Me: Good, I’m glad. You happier now?
Her: Much happier. You?
Me: Much.

Coffee Shop in Pasadena

We don’t stay long and soon I’m back at my brother’s pad. After trying to get some writing done – and hitting some really bad writer’s block – my brother, his girl, and I head out to the local Ramen joint. It’s closed.

Him: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

…but we find another joint around the way. Pretty good. Scarfed down the whole thing with a plate of fried tofu.

Bob Hope Airport, Burbank

I’m too beat to walk around so we head back early. Finally manage to get five hours sleep. We wake up the next morning and he drives me to Bob Hope airport.

Him: Thanks for the surprise.
Me: Ditto!

Pretty quiet trip. I walk out into the NYC summer heat, make it home, and call the wife.

Me: I’m home.
Her: Logan’s home!

It’s good to be home.

———-

Logan Lo and his brother in NYC in the 70s

For those of you that’ve read this blog for years, you might recall when I wrote the difference between Grace and Mercy:

  • Grace is when you get the good things you don’t deserve.
  • Mercy is when you don’t get the bad things you do deserve.

Anywho, I always think of my brother and sister when I think of that. Could use some of both these days for reasons we’ll get into some other time.

Even as a child, I’m stuffing my face. No wonder I broke that chair…

Location: my bed, writing this
Mood: anxious
Music: two American kids growing up in the heartland
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California 2012 Travelogue: Day 2

Coffee, Stairs, and an Engagement

Coffee percolator

Him: Morning!
Me: Morning – I need coffee and Mexican food.

Next day, wake up at my brother’s and, per my usual routine, have coffee. Unfortunately, they only have percolator coffee, which isn’t my favourite but beggars can’t be choosers. At least the pot looks nice.

While going down the stairs, I slip and slide down to the bottom.

Him: You ok?!
Me: I bruised my knee but I think I’m ok. These stairs are dangerous! Do people slip on them all the time?
Him: Nope, you’re the first.
Me: (getting up) Of course I am.

Damn you stairs, my forever enemy.

Mexican restaurant in LA

Him, his girl, and I head off to the local Mexican place. It’s a place that has polite waiters, clean tables, actual silverware, and food you don’t need to unwrap.

Me: (scowling) This isn’t the type of Mexican food I wanted. I wanted food stand food.
Him: Why?
Me: It’s what I eat! Plus the wife’s not here.

Still, it’s excellent. I order the fish tacos as I told my wife before I left, that my goal was to eat as many fish tacos as I could here.

Fish tacos in NYC

After my bro clean up the house for his party. I meet a guy that does the same fencing as I do so we chat for a bit before I politely leave. I’m beat so slip off to bed as I hear my brother start to sing “Hey Jude.” After a few hours, there’s a banging on my door.

Brother: Hey, come back up. I’m asking her to marry me.
Me: Get outta here! (looking down) Suppose I should put on some clothes.

Went back and my bro did the deed on bended knee.

She said yes. It was lovely.

Afterward, went back to the room and lay in bed for five hours wide-awake listening to really drunk karaoke. This was not lovely.

If I am condemned to hell, I imagine it will involve karaoke.

Congrats to my bro!

Location: a guest bedroom, listening to more karaoke
Mood: exhausted
Music: you’ll begin to make it better better better better better better, oh
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California 2012 Travelogue: Day 1

Small world / What else?

By the time you read this entry, I’ll be on a flight back to New York.

Decided to fly out to Los Angles to surprise my brother for a party he was throwing. Left on Thursday night to spend the night at the rents. Usually pack pretty light but when my mom saw my near empty bag, she put in several pounds of homemade food into my bag.

Me: You’re crushing my clothes!
Her: Oh, you’ll be fine. (Shoving in a brick of sticky rice) Wear some of your brother’s clothes.

Even though it was pretty early, the airport was packed. Funny thing was the guy in front of me in the queue looked familiar.

Me: James?
Him: Logan?

Turns out it was a guy from my wrasslin class from a while ago. He got injured and I’d not seen him in years. Small world.

After a plane trip surround by Chinese people and one really annoying guy, arrived in LA just before 11AM.

Guy: (furious) If I weren’t gay, I don’t think you’d say anything. We’re having this argument because I’m gay.
Me: (rolling eyes) Dude, we’re not having this discussion cause you’re gay, we’re having this discussion cause you’re a high-grade moron.

My brother’s girlfriend picked me up and brought me back to his house where I stopped by a roadside drive across the street from the first Trader Joe’s and picked up – what else – some chili.

Afterward, was making some pizza for my brother when he walked in.

Me: Hey.
Him: What are you doing here?!
Me: (laughing and drying hands) Well, you did invite me to the party…

Later, met up with Caffeineguy and his buddy Paul for – what else – some rum at this place called Patterns Bar. It was for a girl’s bday and it turns out, she was a former New Yorker that I knew. Small world.

Caffeineguy: Are you still rum monogamous?
Me: It’s more of an open relationship now – just don’t run Tequila by me. She is not my friend.

Paul had to run and I was fading fast so after some hearty handshakes and a hug or two, called a cab and went back to my brother’s pad. Went to bed thinking of my wife and the California sun.

There’s more but I’ll tell you tomorrow.

Location: On a leather couch in LA
Mood: beat, beat, tired
Music: if you find me one, I’d love a picture of the California sun
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Travelogue Malaga Day 4 & 5

Food and drink on a balcony on the AC Hotel overlooking, Malaga, Spain

That was a non-alcoholic beer. No, I have no explanation for it.

2012.04.16

Me: Your batteries are low. You should always be charging something.
Her: If you had an autobiography, you should call it that.
Me: What was the other I said that you said would be a good title for me?
Her: “I’m full of ham and other late night confessions.”

We wake up later than we thought we would but this is because, after four days, I finally get six uninterrupted hours of sleep. I wake up and see that my hands are steady once again.

We walk out the door and head over to the cathedral, which is on the next block.

The tours are closed so we pay for a viewing of their replica of the Shroud of Turin. Yes, it’s a replica. But it was the only way to see the inside of the church.

They tell us not to take pictures and I say that I won’t take pictures of the exhibit. And I don’t take pictures of the exhibit.

The cathedral in Malaga, Spain

We end up going to another tapas place.

Her: OK, this is nice.
Me: (looking up) I’ll stand guard for birds.

We order almost exactly what we had the other day but this time, it was without bird poop.

The tapas, it turns out, are much better without bird poop. Good advice for life in general.

Street scene in Malaga, Spain

2012.04.17
We wake up early and pick up food at the local bakery again. It’s so early that they don’t have much prepared so I wait for them to make me a sandwich.

A few hours later, we’re in a cab to the airport, and soon on a flight back to Dublin. We get off and I’m starving so we pick up some food at the food court.

Airport in Malaga, Spain

More accurately, I pick up some food at the food court but soon regret my, admittedly, random choices.

Me: Perhaps having a burger, fries, yoghurt, dates, coffee, and an errant cashew right before a transatlantic flight wasn’t the best idea.
Her: You think?

We eventually make it onto our flight home and I spend a little time writing these entries.

It’s late when the plane lands at JFK. We forget that customs is always a bear. But eventually that’s over and a really nice hack gets us home relatively fast.

Some 18 hours after we begin our trip home, we get home.

Her: We’re home!
Me: Sweet! Let me check on Harold.

Harold is obviously upset we went away as he says nothing and he gives me the silent treatment even now.

Still, that aside, it’s good to be home. And now, work.

Woman on balcony in Malaga, Spain
Horses and carriages in Malaga, Spain
Logan Lo, in Malaga, Spain

Location: home, getting dressed for the office
Mood: busy
Music: took what they offered me To set me free
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Travelogue Malaga Day 3 / All food, all the time

Two cups of Café con leche and a pain au chocolat in Malaga, Spain

2012.04.15

We both wake up just in time for a tour of the Picasso museum. Rather, once again, she wakes up and I get up.

The museum is very interesting, actually. No pics though. As we wend our way around these beautiful objects, I’m reminded of something Lorne Michaels once said, Sadly, talent and character do not often reside in the same person.

Afterward, we go out to eat where we order a traditional meal of tapas. In Malaga, they always give you a basket of bread but never any butter or oil to go with it. Find this a bit odd but HG is less concerned. Things are going fairly well until a bird decides to poop on the table in front of HG; in the pic below the crime happens between the bread and the wine.

She is displeased. Thus ends lunch.

Beer, bread, and wine in Malaga, Spain

We go back to the hotel and I actually get some sleep for once. When we wake up, we head out and explore the city a bit. As the rain begins to fall, we end up at a traditional market where people look at me funny cause I’m taking pics of where they pick up their dinner.

Ducking into a café when the rain picks up, we have two café con leche and split a pan du de chocolate as an old man asks us if we want lottery tickets. In light of our recent luck with them, we decline and like the man yesterday, he exclaims, Such a shame!

Eventually, we walk over to try and see the cathedral, but it’s already closed. So we take cover in a doorway and keep our eyes out for birds.

When the weather lets up, we make our ways to the ruins of the Moorish castle, Alcazaba and then the 2300 year old ruins of the Roman arena I saw yesterday.

Her: It’s pretty amazing that people in Europe get to have things like this all over the place.
Me: It really is.

Wine and a mojito in Malaga, Spain

We then we head over and get some libations: she orders a glass of white wine, I order a Mojito.

Her: I can’t believe you’re eating all the mint.
Me: It’s like a drink and a salad all at once.

Soon, we find our way to a restaurant for a proper dinner. I decide on something called a Migas and ask HG to ask the waiter what it is.

Him: Um, maybe he should pick something else.
Her: Why, what is it? (the waiter begins to explain when HG thinks and says) Actually, it doesn’t matter. He’ll eat anything.

It’s pretty good, if not very greasy. She orders the paella and can’t finish that so I eat that as well.

A Migas meal in Malaga, Spain

We take a walk back to the hotel and end up watching “500 Days of Summer” – a film we’ve both been avoiding for a while.

Turned out to be pretty realistic; people, especially men, have been told by Hollywood what love is all about. And real love’s nuthin like what you see in moving pictures. We enjoy it.

We then try to sleep but the noise outside on a Saturday night is indescribably loud.

As I get up and head to the bathroom, I steady myself against the sink. The hand shaking continues.

It’s been a while since my insomnia’s been so bad and for a moment, I despair a bit, thinking maybe it’s back again as it was.

But then remind myself that I’m traveling. Running my hands under the cold water, I look up and see a terribly old-looking man staring back at me.

A butcher in the market of Malaga, Spain
A church in Malaga, Spain

Location: my apartment, looking for more food
Mood: busy
Music: night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
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Travelogue Malaga Day 2

Malaga, Spain

2012.04.14

We wake up an hour before the conference starts. More accurately, HG wakes up and I get up.

She runs out and grabs us two cups of joe, some bread, and a sandwich for me while I get dressed and quickly go over my presentation. Wolf it all down before dashing out the door.

Sandwich in Malaga, Spain

I hoof it over to the Picasso Museum but promptly get lost. An Australian bartender sets me on my way.

Him: It’s over there, between those two buildings.
Me: The alley?
Him: (laughs) That’s a street, mate; alleys you can barely squeeze into here.

A few stressful minutes later,  run into several people that heard me speak last year before I settle into an orange chair in the rear.

Her: Mr. Lo! How are you? (later) Hopefully it’s not as exciting as it was last year when that woman yelled at you.
Me: It wasn’t so bad; at least everyone remembers me.

Cause of technical difficulties, we break for coffee early. During the intermission, a reporter asks if she can interview me. After I nod, she asks about my presentation.

Me: Technology has changed so much recently, especially since I was a kid, and probably the same for most people. For example, how old are you?
Her: um, 21.
Me: Well, I don’t have any examples for you then.

After several other presentations, it’s finally my turn.

Me: The First Amendment – Freedom of Speech – is what Americans are known for. Well, that and McDonalds.

Silence. Complete and utter silence.Then five seconds later, laughter.

I forget that they’re translating what I say into French and Spanish. Relieved, I continue and my jokes elicit the polite laughter I’m expecting. Soon, I smile and finish on time. No one screams at me.

Afterward, we’re at lunch where I end up sitting with some Germans.

Her: You taught yourself German because you couldn’t sleep? Why?
Me: Why not?

Food in Malaga, Spain

Waiters come with small sandwiches and olives. The olives are terribly bitter so I have a sandwich. It’s great – Spanish ham and a soft cheese.

So I have another. It’s blue cheese and tuna. I almost gag so I put it off to the side. Taking a bite of another, it’s different fish and cheese sandwich. Again, I almost gag.

Server: Beer?
Me: Please!

Soon, I have a pile of half-eaten sandwiches on my plate and decide that bitter olives aren’t so bad after all. We Americans are so spoiled when it comes to food.

Bellies full, we head back to the conference but not before I realize that we were just noshing about 100 feet from a 2,000 year old Roman Theater.

The Roman Theater in Malaga, Spain

Back inside, stay for the other American to finish her speech as a sign of solidarity but then I can’t stay awake for the second half of the presentations so I head back to the hotel to rest.

End up working on a few things instead of resting before I run back to the conference hall for drinks.

Outside, several wine tables are set up and I have a glass of white. Then a glass of red. Then a glass of a dessert wine.

Sommelier: What do you normally drink?
Me: Rum.
Him: Such a shame; we have none.
Me: That really is a shame.

Afterward, take a meandering walk back to the hotel as I take in the sights. There’s something beautiful everywhere.

Sculpture in Malaga, Spain

The Spanish have this habit of having dinner at 10PM so they invite HG and me out to eat. Tell them it’s too late for us but, as luck would have it, I run across them as I head home. They insist I come in for a bite but I tell them I can’t as I give them a rueful nod.

After a pleasant night, have an agonizing night as I don’t sleep for more than an hour.

When I wake up, I look down at my hands and notice they’re shaking again.

Dammit.

Malaga, Spain

Location: getting ready for work at home
Mood: groggy
Music: Get sucked in and stuck in late nights
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Logan’s 39 / Travelogue Malaga Day 1

Malaga, Spain

It’s my birthday.

And like always, say something, all of you bastards that read me but never say anything.

Logan Lo at the AC Hotel in Malaga, Spain

2012.04.13

Me: Did we check the stove was off?
Her: Go check.
Me: I put on my shoes already.
Her: (shakes head and slips off shoes)

HG and I go on our first airplane trip together. As i did in Paris last year, I’m speaking about intellectual property issues and video games in Malaga, Spain.

We’re out the door, on the AirTrain, and in the airport in less than an hour. Except for one minor hiccup, we make it to the plane without issue.

Me: Shoot, I can’t find my ticket or passport.
TSA Agent: Sir, you just put them into your back pocket.
Me: I knew that.

Soon we’re in our chairs in the sky and I start taking things from HG’s bag of snacks.

Her: Didn’t you say we didn’t need to bring that? And now you’re going to eat it all in the beginning of our trip.
Me: If you weren’t here, I would strap this on my face like a feed bag.

Six hours and one tiny can of Diet Coke later, we arrive in Ireland for a two-hour layover at around midnight. We have the airport to ourselves.

Airport in Dublin, Ireland

Announcement: last call for Amsterdam.
Me: We should blow this thing and go to Amsterdam. (thinking) We could smoke pot.
Her: You’ve never smoked pot before.
Me: I’m away. I’d smoke a pot.
Her: (laughing) The fact you just said “a pot” makes me think it’s not for you.

Ended up heading to Malaga anyway.

We finally get to board our connecting flight. As I can never sleep, read the entirety of Digital Wars during the layover and half the flight to Spain.

About 18 hours we walk outta our door in NYC, we walk into our door in Malaga.

We drop off our bags and we notice that we have a balcony so I get a beer from the mini-bar and look over the city.

Overlooking Malaga, Spain

We both try to crash for a bit but I don’t get much rest. It’s only 1PM there so four hours later, we get up in search of food and a SIM card and we find both on the same block.

The organizer of the event meets us for a chat in the hotel lobby but we’re fading fast so we politely make it short.

Unfortunately, it’s a sleepless night cause Spaniards have dinner at 10PM and we’re essentially in the Times Square of Malaga.

It’s been almost 30 hours and I’ve gotten five hours of sleep.

The conference’s tomorrow.

Overlooking Malaga, Spain
Having a beer on a balcony in Malaga, Spain

Location: finally back home
Mood: another year older
Music: Just give me credit, I’m just sitting on the shelf
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Bermuda 2011

Cloudy day in Bermuda

Me: Do you wanna…?
Her: It’s Monday, Logan.
Me: Television it is.

Went with the wife for a quick trip to Bermuda last week. Normally when I go someplace, there’s usually some travelogue to go with it.

This time, however, the entirety of the excursion can be summed up as follows:

  • sleep
  • eat
  • beach
  • read
  • watch Dexter
  • watch Game of Thrones
  • rum

Repeat. It was pretty cloudy and rainy the whole time but that was fine with me as it gave me an excuse to just sit inside with a drink and read.

Parta what makes the trip so relaxing is the forced lack of net access. Have to remember that.

Going to the Caribbean is like going to the Mecca of rum. Came back with almost half a suitcase worth of the stuff. Gonna need it with the way the economy’s heading.

Piña colada in Bermuda

A few days before going, met up with Hazel and Gio for some drinks – it was like back when we were all single. To prep for my trip, ordered a Piña colada and the bartender insisted on putting a pink umbrella in it.

Him: That’s a manly pink umbrella.
Me: It’s not complete until I drink it with my pinky out.

Now it’s Monday and I’m back to work. Still got sand in my bag. Dunno if that’s a good or bad thing.

Beach sand in Bermuda
Logan Lo

 

Location: back in my apartment
Mood: content
Music: don’t have time I’ve still got sand in my shoes
YASYCTAI: Take a week off. (7 days/1 pt)
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