My favorite picture

Location: 21:00 punching someone off West End Ave
Mood: excited
Music: don’t have to wait for words I can walk away and listen to the birds

Had the best news tonight when I realized that I had no one to share it with. Called someone because I wanted to but she didn’t pick up. Sad but not completely unexpected.

Gonna keep some more things to myself if you don’t mind; let’s just say, I got a tiny win today. Just a little. And that’s something.

Also, my fencing instructor said I was high intermediate – just under expert, which made me all sortsa warm and fuzzy too, in a cutthroat kinda way. I also talked to L and Pretty Jenny, botha whom reminded me how nice it is to have friends that are still on your side.

Finally, I found this picture after months of looking for it. It’s one of my favorites. I think that’s a hawk in the NYC sky.

Hey there, blue sky. Did y’miss me?

I’ve missed you.


Stupid Tequila / Oranges in our drinks

Me: There are three types of people in the world. Single, sorta single and not single.
Her: Which one are you?
Me: Which one do you want me to be?

Busy weekend. Here’re the highlights. Friday, meet up with Pretty Jenny and her friends. We all hang out downtown where an outdoor flick’s playing. Then we’re off in cabs to another joint where I snap the pic below and Jenny buys rounds. Gave Tequila another chance and she screwed me. Always ends the same.

Saturday, Rain, Hazel, Paul and I hit up a few bars and The Park. Between the bartender whipping a patron with his own belt and the skinnydipping in the club, I run into the Cornell crew; a woman from way back; somea Paul’s friends; and somea Gio’s friends. Said it before, NYC’s a small town. Eh, at least you’re never bored.

Speaking of town, Caligirl’s back in it and wants to get together; she’s marrying someone else. But it’s not the man she loves and not me either. It’d be funny if it wasn’t. She found out about this blog too so I guess her story ends here.

Arrive home comfortably numb, and there’s a painfully sad email sitting in my inbox that sobered me up right quick. Couldn’t read it all. Guess that story ends here too. She had the most beautiful eyes.

Three stories ended this weekend, in one way or another. I’m always exiting people’s Venn Diagram or vice versa. Sucks either way. Hence the Tequila. Stupid Tequila.

Rethinking pouring my life into this blog. No. 5 once asked once if I was lonely. No, I said, I have my secrets. Only got a few left.

And those I wish I didn’t have. Cause they rattle ’round my brain at 5AM and keep me up. Stupid secrets.

Me: Sorta single? It doesn’t matter. The night is young and we have oranges in our drinks. Well, I do anyway. You’ve got bubbles.

Location: 22:40, walking up Broadway w a friend
Mood: hopeful
Music: people in your life are seasons, And anything that happen is for a reason


E pur si muove

Location: getting up to go
Mood: honest
Music: io lo so che non sono solo anche quando sono solo

I suspect that this weekend will be quite different from last weekend.

The legend goes that Galileo Galilei was arrested in 1633 for going against church doctrine that the earth does not move and, instead, everything revolves around it. He recanted his beliefs rather than face the Inquisition but as he was being led out of the courtroom, he muttered, E pur si muove – and yet it moves.

What he was saying was that the truth is the truth regardless of what else one says. It’s action, the motion, that matters.

Could try’n explain why I do what I do but it’d just be hot breath and lies.

Ah, there it is: The lies we tell ourselves.

Tonight I was honest, I mean really honest, with the Hazel-Eyed Italian and where I was. And hate myself for it. And tonight I was also honest, really honest, with myself about SX. And hate myself more for it.

Well look at that, I’m completely single again. Isn’t that convenient?

As luck would have it, it’s the weekend. Even luckier, I clean up real nice, have far too little shame and far too much rum.

But one more bit of honesty between you and me, just because it’s late. And I’m tired and introspective.

I hide my ugly well.

So well, in fact, that when I smile, you only see the whiteness of my teeth and never the sharpness.

And yet it moves.


Uncool me

A few weeks back:

Her: Wait, you only have one bowl?
Me: (shrugging) I only have one me.

I don’t have an iPod – don’t have an “i” anything, in fact. Someday maybe, not now.

Almost all my music, DVDs, books, papers, works, I’ve digitized and put into a computer I built myself. I watch it all through either a TV I bought seven years ago or a projector I use for business.

Got a lotta Valentino shirts and about eight custom-made suits but I bought ’em all at least a decade ago when I was young and stupid. Tee-shirts and Levi jeans for me.

Drama notwithstanding, I spend coin on:

I’m lucky because I’ve never been cool and I’m WAY too old to start now. Plus, I have zero need to impress anyone.

Where do you think the happiest place on earth is? It’s here. Not what you expect, huh? Happiness comes from community and purpose. Stuff cannot make you happy. Don’t be fooled by ad execs (I was one) – there’s no pill, shirt, shoes, phone, that will make you happy.

Working jobs you hate, to buy crap you don’t need, to impress those you don’t know – that’s just !#@$ nuts.

Connecting, man, that’s where it’s at. Ah, but there’s the rub. Another person cannot make you happy. But losing them can make you all sortsa bent outta shape.

Connecting. It’s harder than one might imagine:

Her: Can you not call me?
Me: Tonight or ever?
Her: (pause) Ever. ()
Me: (pause) Well…that sounds about right. (sighing, putting down phone and turning to fish) Yes George, I know it’s nonea my business. But still…

Location: my blue couch
Mood: throughly confused
Music: I think she’s leaving Ooh man she’s leaving


Who pays the price?

Me: If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were happy couple.
Her: (long pause) We were.

Thanks for all the well-wishes; got me through a rough day. Worked until 1AM on my birthday. S’ok cause I did a lot of living this past weekend.

SX came up from Philly to see me and I showed her my city.

Saturday night we hit up a party that my friends Paolo and Cindy threw for me. Do you remember that last scene from It’s a Wonderful Life where Geroge can’t believe all the people that came out for him? Sorta how I felt.

On Sunday, SX and I grab brunch around the way. Then she gets ready to go. It’s terribly sad. Terribly. My self-sabotaging’s pretty much train on time.

Ok then.

Her: It’s funny, I feel like we’re breaking up and we were never together. Who knew I’d find a 35 year-old womanizer appealing? (pause) I like you, Logan.
Me: I like you too.
Her: (pause) Will you write about me?
Me: I like to keep some of my private life private. (pause) Do you want me to?
Her: (long pause) Yes. I want you to write about this weekend.

This weekend I had a beautiful girl come visit me for my birthday and we had an absolutely amazing time. But I discovered that I’m a lousy womanizer. Cause Paul and I stick to two rules:

  1. Never lie.
  2. Always leave people better off having met you.

Causea rule one, I never know if somea these people that cross my Venn Diagram’ll cross them again. Causea rule two, I tell SX that she should be with that other guy because he can be there for her and I can’t – then again, I’m no one’s careful consideration.

I sighed this past weekend and SX asked me what I was thinking. I just smiled and shrugged.

But what I was thinking was that, My head knows I’m doing the right thing but it’s never my head that pays the price.

She picked up her bag, shut the door, and walked away.

And here I am again.

Location: 22:23, 57th and 8th Avenue
Mood: alone
Music: There’s a somebody I’m longing to see


Logan’s 35

The lies you tell yourself

I submit that your misery is the sum of the lies you tell yourself:

  • I’m not good at languages, that’s why I don’t learn Italian.
  • I need a drink to talk to her.
  • I’m too old to start something like that.

My favorite: I’m not that type of guy/gal.

That’s the stupidest one of all. Following that logic: I’m not the type of guy that drives because I’ve never driven before.

It’s all horse___, you know? The lies you tell yourself. It’s all horse____.

Put another way: you’re not the person you know you could be, causa the lies you tell yourself.

I’m pensive. Turning 35 today. Halfway to getting my ticket punched, and still waiting for my real life to begin. Been thinking, maybe it begins when you stop lying to yourself. When you take that nasty truth, bite into it and swallow. Then go in for seconds.

Wish I did it a lot earlier myself. Then again, wish I bought Google at 300 bucks, kissed Stella in 9th grade, and didn’t have my life’s savings stolen. But whaddya gonna do?

A pretty lady from a sun-kissed beach just dropped me a line and another pretty lady’s heading my way for a spell. Plus there’s the weekend. Hoping for some awesome to head my way.

Some awesome, and maybe another whole wheat donut, would be nice.

Now…wish me a happy birthday, all of you bastards that read me and never say anything.

Location: 13:00 yest, Harlem
Mood: excited
Music: Coming outta my cage and I’ve been doing just fine

dating personal

Monday Always Comes a Day Too Soon

Location: all over the damn place
Mood: confused
Music: risk all this for just a kiss I promise I will not resist

Friday night, Sheridan invites me another one of his high-society parties and Gio invites me to a club; woulda been floated into both but I need some downtime.

Using a broken chopstick and four rubber-bands, spend the night mounting a 2.5″ HD into a 3.5″ bay in my DVR. Used to spend a lotta Fridays like that. No lie.

Saturday night, hit up a girlie’s party in Jersey. Met someone whom I may have kissed over New Year’s, but I don’t think so. Then again, been wrong before. An hour into it, get a call from SX. She’s in Jersey too.

Her: Let’s meet up half-way.

Me: (thinking) OK, I’m game.

We end up at a diner just east of no-freaking-where. Her blond hair falls into her eyes when she walks in, laughs and says, This is crazy. I smile and nod. In one of our conversations, I tell her that I occasionally kiss the women I meet.

Her: You’re a tongue-whore.

Me: Do people say that?

It’s almost 5AM when we call it a night. Sunday, wake up, do my situps and clean up my train-wreck of a pad. Meet up with a Hazel-Eyed Italian for caramels who lives around the way with an easy laugh. She asks about my dating life so I take a deep breath and tell her.

Her: Oh…you’re a tongue-slut.

Me: Wow, people really do say that. And I prefer whore, thank you.

We walk around the big city for a bit. Pointing at some violets, she says that she never sees enough of them here. I smile in agreement before she slips underground and I dash off to church.

I slide into a pew and sit by my lonesome in the back. Find myself staring just a little too long at the smug couples around me. I excuse myself, go to the restroom and wash my face for no particular reason. Then trudge up the steps to sit alone again.

Monday always comes a day too soon, yeah?


Still on your side

Got some win so I bought a donut. True, it was a whole wheat donut but a donut nonetheless.


My ex and I spoke the other day. She’s moving from the NY Times to onea the other NYC papers. Just as well, it’s weird opening up the Saturday paper and seeing, not just her stuff but two of the three men she saw after (and during) me.

Never blamed her for leaving me – I was a lout. Just had a problem with how she did it. Then again, thought she was great but I never showed her, so really, who’s fault was it? Which brings me to a conversation I had yesterday with someone else entirely.

Her: You’re mean.
Me: What if you knew I was always on your side?
Her: What do you mean, on my side?
Me: When I was a little kid, my mom brought me to the doctor for a shot. She lied to me to get me there. I was furious. Thought I hated her and told her as much. Made her cry. Thing is, (a) she knew info I didn’t know and (b) she was on my side – meaning, she was looking out for my best interest, even though I didn’t know it. What if the two were true for me to you; would that change what you think about what I do and say? Don’t answer, just a random thought.

Question for you: Does the person you’re with cut you slack or pounce on every screwup, real or imagined? In other words, is the person you’re with on your side? Harder question, are you on theirs?

Just a random thought.

Wonder what mischief I can get myself into this weekend?

Location: 20:00 yest, dinner with the family
Mood: fat ‘n content
Music: My yesterdays are all boxed up and neatly put away


More Spring

Location: in my jammies, working from home
Mood: hopeful
Music: It’s alright, baby’s coming back (make it easy on yourself)

Her: How can I help you?

Me: What’s the biggest burger you have?

Her: Um…I guess the triple Whopper with cheese.

Me: Huh. Can you add another patty on and I’ll pay for that?

Her: You want a quadruple whopper? We don’t…I don’t have a button for that. I could charge you for another Whopper and you could stack that on top.

Me: Well that’s just silly. The triple Whopper is $5 and the regular is $3:50. How about this, why don’t you throw on two chicken patties and I’ll pay for that.

Her: OK, so you want a Triple Whopper with Cheese and two Chicken sandwiches but just the meat stuffed into the Triple Whopper.

Me: Yes…and a diet coke.

Her: (bursts out laughing) I take it you didn’t have breakfast.

Me: Oh no, I did. (pause) Why?

My birthday’s coming up. You should all chip in and buy me a defibrillator.

On a positive note, may be close to settling with the IRS. Still need to come up with some coin but nothing near the $25,674 they initially said. Wanna see it in writing before I’ll believe it.

Could use some win.

Getting hit on a lot again – don’t think it’s so much me as because it’s spring. If not for spring, I think there’d be a lot more single people in the big city.


He keeps calling

Met a girl tonight and told her we were like ships in the night

Met up with some friends for a Spring party. There was a girlie there from Guest House a few months back. My friend was gaming her but I could tell she was vibing me so I discreetly bounced – girlies come and go, good friends are harder to find. He’s now with someone else so fast forward to this past weekend.

Her: You’re leaving? Again? What’re you, a viejo?
Me: (kissing her cheek) Very much, pretty lady. Very much.

Was leaving cause I was thinking of ringing SX when I ran into a pair of green eyes.

Her: Alison.
Me: Logan. (shaking her hand) Well look at us – we’re like ships in the night; you’re stepping in, I’m stepping out. We’d have lovely children, you and I, what with my looks and your brains. They’d be a shoe-in for the ivy league.
Her: What? (laughing) Then stay.
Me: Can’t. Got an appointment to keep. But New York’s a small town – ships in the night, yeah?
Her: Yeah.

Walking to the subway, flicked on my mobile and dialed a number. I’m sleeping, she said, but we talked until dawn anyway.

Saturday involved more rum, the Token girl (who’s moving ’round the way), the bouncers at Solas (who turned me upside down), Paul and a German girl in Zum Schneider (who was entertaining), and a Russian blond (who was awfully handy) on 9th Street.

Sunday night, went to church and sat next to a friend who told me she couldn’t make it to my birthday. Then I walked home with Jenny again.

It’s Monday. Got 11 days left; the devil’s been calling. Afraid I’ll have to answer at some point. The devil and God comes when you’re on your knees.

Don’t wanna be on my knees again. Thankfully, that’s where the rum comes in.

Location: in my shower, thinking
Mood: wicked
Music: And when you think it’s all over, It’s not over, it’s not over