One point five

Painting by Constellajen
Me: Mom, don’t cry, my hands always shake.
Her: But they’re not supposed to…

Mom’s terribly worried about me these days. I tell her not to be and yet – well, mothers are as they are.

When she first came here, my mom tied a 1.5 minute egg timer to the phone. Once a month, she would call her mom and they would talk for exactly 1.5 minutes. No matter what, they got off the phone after 1.5 minutes. It’s all they could afford. Her mom worried about her too. She was 26?

Can you imagine?

Here’s the thing: unless you know me IRL, you and I most likely wouldn’t be anything back in those days. What a world we live in, where communication is a commodity. Text, email, fax, blogs – we can all connect.

Veijukka asked who gives me pep talks, I don’t really need them. Because I’m so much in my own head all the time. Sometimes, though, I could use a quiet connection.

Thanks for listening this week. It’s been rough.

I’ll see if I can’t get slapped again by another girl this weekend to keep y’all entertained.

Location: Queens, locked outta my office
Mood: irritated at myself
Music: The more you ignore me, the closer I get

Being a brick wall

It’s hard keeping it together when it comes down on you

Me: You can do this. You’ve done it before, you survived. You can do it again. You just gotta be a brick wall.
Her: What does that mean?
Me: Two things. First, a brick wall doesn’t cry, it doesn’t beg, it doesn’t plead, it doesn’t do anything. It just is. A brick wall does what it’s supposed to do – without compunction, without complaint, without contempt. A brick wall’s built for pressure; you’re built for pressure.
Her: And second?
Me: Second is it doesn’t give anything away – you can read a face, you can’t read a brick wall. Keep it together. People’re relying on you. You’re relying on you. Don’t ever let him break you down. A brick wall doesn’t break; everything else breaks against it.
Her: (quizzically) I’ma brick wall?
Me: Yeah, you’re a goddamned brick wall.
Her: (deep breath) I’m a brick wall.
Me: You’re stone.

Location: 18:30 yest, hopping onto the seven train
Mood: beat tired
Music: the only one here now is me; I’m fighting things I cannot see


We live in a Cliff’s Notes society where we think we know things

My friend Mike passed away; I just heard the news this weekend. Very sudden.

An older guy, he looked like he was 45. He had a six-pack! Paul and I joked all the time that he looked better than botha us. He was a student in my fencing class; 65 years old and still training hard.

I remember that when everything went down with me, so many people said, Well, the only way is up. Which is yet another one of those sayings that only has the air of truth but no real truth to it – dude, there’s always more room for down. Always.

Mike didn’t say that; he said: I’m an old man, I’ve seen a lotta things. You never know what Life will give you, but good or bad, you take it anyway.

We live in a Cliff’s Notes society where we know the punchlines, but never the whole saying:

  • Fools rush in (where angels fear tread)
  • Curiosity killed the cat, (and satisfaction brought him back)
  • Speak of the devil (and the devil appears)

Y’know the sayings: for whom the bell tolls and no man is an island? They come from a John Donne poem:

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend’s were.
Each man’s death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

Mike, you bastard, you made a room fulla grown men with pointy sticks and aggression issues cry. We’re diminished.

I hope when I go, I’m half the man you were.
Location: writing this with a glass of rum for Mike
Mood: grateful
Music: Well, if it rains, I don’t care Don’t make no difference to me
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Music Week Day 4 – Bedtime stories

Location: 20:00, locked out of my car and freezing in Queens
Mood: sotted
Music: they keep getting younger, Don’t they baby?

no mother ever thinks that her daughter’s gonna grow up to sleep alone.

I was listening to this song before I fell asleep one night and I had the strangest dream about a man who couldn’t sleep and woman who wouldn’t speak. I’d like to tell it to you.

If I can remember it all, I will.

I’ll add that to the list of things I’ve gotta do. I’m sorry for all of those of you that said you could help – I don’t think I can do the rum project. No time.

There’s never enough time these days.

Music Week Day 3 – Charm attack -ish

To continue from my last post:

Me: OK, I’ll meet your friend.
Cain: Wait, you know Logan has a strict catch and release policy, right?
Her: What does that…oh…
Me: Hey! (sighing) Nevermind…

Time: 500(ish) Days
Dates: 80(ish)
Relationships: 5(ish)
Shortest: 2 weeks
Longest: 4 months (4.5 if you count the recidivism)
Dates this week: 2
Batting average: 80:0

I’m 35 in two months. Cain thinks I’m self-sabotaging, my parents think I’m not getting any younger, friends Rain questions if I’m gay.

They all think I’m the guy that’s just passing by, but I’m not. I’m killing time.

I told you then, I’m waiting for my person.

I’m still waiting.

Location: 10:30 yest, queuing at the bank
Mood: creative
Music: Well, I’m no savior But I tried to save you

Music Week Day 2 – Not quite yet

Location: 15:30 & 19:00 yest, walking about the hood
Mood: disappointed
Music: you only want what everybody else says you should want

If you miss Freddie too, you’ll like this kid – he’s got pipes. Here’s another killer vid from him.


Kemidra posted an interesting question in her blog and supported my parents’ theory that I’m attractive (bringing the total number of people that think that to three).

I wrote in my very first post that, for almost two decades, I wasn’t so much Logan as I was Loganandliz, or what have you – like Samanderic in Lord of the Flies. I was a unit as in: Let’s invite Loganandliz – they’re a cute couple!

It’s been 19 months and I gotta say, I like being single.

I don’t think you can have a good relationship with someone else if you’ve never fully fleshed out who you are. I mean what do you bring to the table if you’re defined by someone else?

Having said that, if I did meet the right girl at the right time for both of us, I’d stop being single in a heartbeat. Cause it doesn’t matter if you’re the disappointer or the diappointee – it’s fulla suck either way.

But sometimes, that’s how it’s gotta be. To quote St. Augustine again: da mihi castitatem et continentiam – sed noli modo

Give me chastity and continence – but not quite yet.


I went on a blind date with a very cool and attractive, brown-eyed girl today.

Me: After all my fish died, I bought a bunch more and named them all George.
Her: (quizzical look)
Me: (nodding slowly) They’re pretty upset over the whole matter, too.
Her: (laughs) You should get a goldfish and call him Token because he’ll be the token goldfish.
Me: Well now, that’s just silly.

Also met a bevy of lovely Christian girls at a party on Friday. Weird thing is that when I found out they were Christian, I slipped into anywhere but church mode.

It’s a mental block.

Location: 14:00 yest., the 66th Street Barnes & Noble
Mood: hopeful
Music: I don’t believe that you, you don’t believe in me


Some days, you get hot dancers, models, and caviar on a cracker. Others you just get the cracker

Him: You’re on the guest list. It’s an anti-Valentine’s Day party at the Chinatown Brasserie. Everyone there’s single plus it’s catered with an open bar.
Me: (sigh) I’m in not in town. Last minute gig came up. I’m out, first thing in the morning.

It’s snowing when I exit the pad for the Rainbow Room. I’m wearing my black tux with a black tee-shirt and pretty much arrive drenched.

Sheridan and I run into our buddy RE Mike, who’s still cuttin’ deals at the party. James Lipton, Richard Kind, David Zaikin, Tina Fey and Alec Baldwin are there – all’re pretty nice folk. The food’s killer and some chick from American Idol belts out soul. I also meet this woman who says she fixes people up like Phoebe Cates and Kevin Kline.

Her: You’re cute! I want to introduce you to my step-daughter. She’s beautiful and just graduated from Cornell. She’s Jewish though.
Me: Well, that I don’t have a problem with but…how old is she?
Her: 22.

Midway through the party, I lose Syd’s lens cap so I spend a good hour looking for it. Giving up, I hang out with the girl from Wednesday’s post.

I’m heading out when a waiter says, I saw you looking on the ground. Were you looking for this? He pulls out Syd’s cap. I break out into a smile, shake his hand, and take a pic of him. All-in-all, onea my better Tuesdays.

This week, Sheridan’s at the Brasserie, Paul’s in China, Gio’s in Columbia. Me? I’m the only person beside the nightwatch in a frozen, upstate hotel. Dinner’s a protein bar and some rum.

Some days, you get scantily clad dancers, Ford models, and Beluga caviar on a cracker.

Some days, you just get the cracker.

Location: alone in 14020
Mood: so tired
Music: I am damaged at best Like you’ve already figured out

Weekday win

We both know my life is full of suck. But lately I’ve been getting some win. Weekday win is the best.


Friday night, Paul and I meet a pretty brown-eyed girl who says she’s Asian but doesn’t look anything ‘cept Irish and offers to buy us a drink. We also meet a group of 22 year olds (course) who ask if I talk to God. I do.

Saturday, I’m on the wrong side of 10PM when I get dressed. No plans but I live in NYC, dammit. There’s always something, right? Who wants in? I’m game, Gio says, and we’re off.

We bump into Burn, who says she’s happy to see me. I tell her I missed her and don’t lie. She says the same and kisses my cheek.

Sunday, the cobwebs fade a bit when Sheridan and I grab brunch round the way. He’s buying another building in Chelsea and asks if I want a piece. I laugh and fill him in.

Him: Private party Tuesday in the Rainbow Room. Beautiful women, open bar, Tina Fey, Alec Baldwin and a bunch of celebs’re gonna be there. You want in?
Me: Are you not listening to me?
Him: (rolling eyes) Please, you’re always my guest. Meet me at 30 Rock at 7. It’s a black & white party. Look good.

I tell him I always look good and he laughs. We go and have the best time. I walk up to a girl and say, My friend’s occupied and so’s yours, let’s keep each other company and make ’em jealous, yeah? She laughs and I take her by the hand.

Her: I love Asian men.
Me: I don’t blame you, we’re lovely.
Her: What’s your name?
Me: Not so fast, let’s see if you can dance first. Cm’on…

She’s beautiful and, it turns out, married. But we all know my head’s not in the game. I tell her she’s a good dancer and that it was nice meeting her. She was. It was. I also give her a hug and tell her my name. Then I’m gone.

Just got in – I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow, maybe, yeah?
Location: read below
Mood: so entertained
Music: everything you want, Honey, we know the names

Speaking of so quick to come and go

Location: 21:00, leaving church because
Mood: confused
Music: baby, i got kid gloves, baby, i got heart

Was a foot away from them in one of their last concerts. Shame they broke up, they were awesome.

Speaking of awesome, met someone in church recently but, as I said before, anywhere but church.

Speaking of anywhere, had another random weekend but I suppose that’s for another time.

Speaking of time, this’ll be my first St. Val’s solo since I was 16.

Speaking of St. Val’s…


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