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personal

Three people, independently

Another of my many life rules

What do coffee, tea, and chocolate have in common?

      • Coffee comes from relatively tall trees originating from a region called Kaffa in Ethiopia, Africa.
      • Tea, meanwhile, comes from an evergreen shrub in East Asia.
      • Chocolate, finally, comes from the relatively short cacao tree from South/Central America.

They’re really completely different species of vegetation that have absolutely nuthin – nuthin – in common with each other.

Yet, somehow, each plant, completely independently of each other, somehow figured out how to make the below chemical compound as a means of self-protection from animals that might eat it:

(c) Someone else

Caffeine.

I always found that remarkable. That three, completely unrelated organisms (they’re literally on different continents), can come to the same logical conclusion: Creating the chemical compound of caffeine will help it survive – and potentially flourish – somehow.

It musta worked because they all started this potentially millions of years ago, and are still doing it now, to this day.

I developed my own life rule  from this rando bit of knowledge.

Case in point, a little while ago, I was unkind to a fella at the gym I was going to at the time. Three people that I like and respect told me that I was in wrong.

So, I found the guy, sat him down, and apologized for how I treated him and he was pretty receptive to it. We now chat regularly and he actually joined Paxibellum.

Told you repeatedly: I’m not a good person.

It’s one of my many life rules that I keep for myself to similarly survive and, hopefully, flourish:

If three people, independently, tell me something, it must be true.

And the same rule works in the contrapositive:

If something is not true, then three people would not independently tell me about it.

I’ve been doing a lotta self-reflection with my therapist lately and just spoke to her today.

Me: What do you think, in your honest professional opinion? Am I a narcissist?
Her: (thinking) The hallmark of narcissism is a lack of empathy, but I don’t see that at all. You tried to help your father, your wife, your ex, Chad, etc, because you empathize with their struggles.
Me: And the rest? Am I irredeemable for all the things that I’ve done?
Her: I don’t think so. I see someone who went through – and is still going through – a lot of trauma but trying to be better for his son and those around him. I mean, you’re talking to me, after all.  It’s the people that never bother trying to be better that end up staying the same.

Location: earlier today, the Metal Park
Mood: trying
Music: I don’t want to dream about the things that I used to be (Spotify)
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A night on the Virgin Revvel

Not the wurst night

RE Mike invited me out to a party on a ship – which is vastly different from a party on a boat – and comped me two extra tix.

I’d always thought that my SIL and Mouse would get along so I invited both of them expecting that one, or both, would demur. Surprisingly, they both said yes and the three of us had a great night.

We were supposed to link up with RE Mike and my buddy from around the way but we only saw them briefly because (a) we got there much earlier than them and (b) there was some scheduling issues.

It was the first time we were hanging out since April of 2019.

But it ended up being fine. We headed first to the restaurant.

Her: We should leave a tip.
Me: It’s all taken care of.
Her: We don’t leave a tip?!
Me: It’s all taken care of. Trust me on this.

Again, I don’t think I ever taken out my wallet a single time for anything that RE Mike’s ever invited me in all these years.

RE Mike and our buddy around the way both showed up to say hi during dinner and they accidentally took my jacket, which led to me hunting them down all night – a harder task when there’s an open bar involved.

Speaking of which, afterward we went to the bar…

…then a club…

…then a show…

…then more bars…

…before ending the night at a diner on the ship.

Her: God, that was the worst sausage ever.
Me: It was definitely the wurst. (no one thought that was funny, but I still entertain myself, no end)

I was thrilled to hang out with both my SIL and Mouse at the same time. It made me think of all my possible pasts – for better or worse – all night.

Told Mouse to be herself that night because of her last entry in her blog.

Always hated when people were cruel to Mouse, although I’m sure she’ll point out that we were cruel to each other.

The last face she makes in the video below is essentially how she looks at me whenever we’re fighting.

Later on at home that night, I had a dream. In it, a woman that I didn’t know called me and told me that an old friend of mine was looking for me.

Me: Why doesn’t he call me himself?
Her: You know him. He said you’d understand and that he needed your help.
Me: (thinking) No, he didn’t.
Her: What do you mean?
Me: Because, he would never say that. Demons in the night know their own.

Location: my childhood home for dinner
Mood: confused
Music: Wasting time and stuck inside a broken dream (Spotify)
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Trying to be better

The kid is in first grade

It’s weird having the kid back in school again. I feel as if no time has passed this summer but so much has.

And yet, here we are, in a new grade, with new classmates and teachers. Picking him up the first day, I met his teacher for the first time.

Me: So how did he do?
Her: Well, you obviously know how social he is. He made a lot of new friends pretty quickly.
Me: Yup, that sounds like him.

He does have some social anxiety when we first show up to anything, but I encourage him to feel whatever he feels.

Him: I’m sorry I’m scared, Papa.
Me: (shaking head) No. Don’t ever apologize for your honest feelings. You’re always entitled to your true feelings, kid, and no one – not even me – is allowed to tell you that you can or cannot feel something that you honestly feel.

This actress named Charlotte Cushman once said, To try to be better is to be better.

Suppose I tell the kid these kinda things in the hopes that he’ll try to be ok and, maybe, that will be enough to make him ok.

I just want him to be ok.


Alla that sounds very sensible but the truth is that I question my own feelings about any number of things.

And yet, I try my best to not get down on myself for feeling what I feel.

And what I don’t feel.

Her: Why?
Me: I don’t know. I just know I’m not your guy.
Her: Well, thanks for telling me, I guess. (later) I didn’t even want dessert.

It’s still a work in progress. I’m trying.

Looking back at women I’ve dated, there are at least three women that I know that married the very next guy they dated after me.

That’s just off the top of my head.

Suppose, after me, it became very clear what they did and didn’t want in their life, for better or worse.

Writing that made me laugh. Perhaps I’m just so awful that some people needed to marry the very next person to get me outta their systems.

Maybe trying to be better isn’t enough after all.

Someone just rang my doorbell from my building. He found a crowbar on the floor in the hallway and it’s pretty clear, someone was trying to break into one of the units here.

I should really move to the burbs.

Location: in my apartment building
Mood: exhausted
Music: been feeling lazy, I’ve been going crazy (Spotify)
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Rooting for you

I could get used to this

Between the normal work I have to do and trying to get the gym off the ground, it’s been an insanely busy month but I’m seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

Mouse came by one night where she did us a huge favor (and also got injured) so I took her out to eat.

It was nice and familiar. She told me about her dating life:

      • It’s awful to be single and male in NYC.
      • It’s awful to be single and female in NYC.
      • It’s awful to be single in NYC.
      • It’s awful to be single.

We hadn’t really spoken in ages so it was nice to catch up.

That’s not entirely true. We occasionally video chat, but that usually involves her scaring the bejeezus outta me with alla the filters she has.

My son also came back today for school. I missed him terribly.

We immediately went to a friend’s birthday party…

…and then another party, where he sat with a girl he’s known since he was 18 months old.

Her mom, Emely, has always been super sweet to me, for completely undeserved reasons.

Her: I saw your latest video with the ice knife. And you opened a gym too?!
Me: I get how crazy a lotta what I say is.
Her: (laughing) There are a lot of people that are rooting for you, Logan.

…and then went for a long bike ride down Manhattan’s Hudson River Greenway, before heading out for dinner.

There’s a small cafe around me that has been at least a half-dozen iterations of cafes since I moved into the hood decades ago.

This was the latest one, which is a combo cafe and bodega. I got a salad and some sweet potato fries. He got a pizza burger. We sat down to eat surrounded by kitty litter and cat food.

Him: Liver cat food…gross.
Me: I think if you were a cat, you’d rather like that.
Him: Yuck!

One of the first things, however, that we did alone together was that we played our favourite songs for each other. I played for him Shotgun by George Ezra, as covered by Us the Duo.

Him?

I’ll let you listen for yourself. I’m not the best parent – not the worst, either – but, yeah, not the best.

Location: home
Mood: happy
Music: If you need me you know where I’ll be (Spotify)
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When $5 is more than $5

Cleaning things out

This is my last week without the boy for a while. Once school starts, he’ll be with me until December, because of the stupid Delta variant.

So, I’ve been working on getting my life on track the past month, like cleaning up his room so that it’s more functional for a young boy and not a baby.

It also includes cleaning out the last bits of Alison’s things.

It’s hard getting rid of things. Everything matters to me in some manner or another.

But the flooding was a good push for me to do what I knew I had to do.

Alison was never overly sentimental; she would rather have a clean and functional home than one packed to the rafters with unused things.

Her daily driver for outerwear was a simple black puffer coat. Of course, I don’t have a single fucking picture of her wearing it.

I gave it away yesterday to someone special, but I went through the pockets of it first. There were exactly two things there: A very neatly folded five-dollar bill and a Metrocard that expired November 30, 2015.

It was the first time I cried in 2021, I think.

I put them both away. It’s weird, I deal with value on a regular basis.

There’s a tenuous connection between value and emotions/nostalgia. Consider a cheap $0.25 pen. Now imagine it was your favourite actor that used that pen for years and then finally tossed it. Is it worth $0.25?

Or far more, because he used it? Or far less because it’s broken?

I always found that whole thing silly and amusing.

Until lately, I guess. Now, $5 is worth a lot more than $5, as is a used, expired Metrocard. At least to me.

Ah, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?

On a funnier note, I had the ABFF’s cleaner come by to give the pad a solid clean – usually it’s just me, I’m the people –  but, before she came, I wanted to give things a once-over, because I’m weird like that.

On top of one of my cabinets, I found yet another knife. That made me laugh.

I have issues.

I will say that I’ve enjoyed being able to meet up with people willy-nilly and whenever I wanted these past few weeks.

Me: Are you in the mood for wings?
Her: Depends.
Me: Goodness, on what? Even bad wings are still ok wings.

Me: Do you want to get a drink?
Her: Sure.

Her: I could go for some pie.
Me: I was just telling someone that pies are superior to cake.
Her: Let’s not go that far.

Him: I got shots. Tequila and pickle-juice.
Me: I’m pre-emptively throwing up inside.

Location: my disaster of an apartment
Mood: busy!
Music: No more waiting, I’m taking the chance (Spotify)
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Hanging with Ida and Steve, Pt 2

Dealing with the loss

I literally chugged the negroni I ordered, grabbed my stuff from coat check, and walked out to … just, a whirlwind of rain.

I’d literally never seen rain like this before. It was almost as if I was in a shower going full blast.

This is a video I made on the way to the concert. The rain on the way outta the concert was significantly worse. Significantly.

Made it to the yellow line station in Koreatown where I got onto a train that crawled into Time Square.

What normally would be a two-minute ride took closer to 15.

And when I left the train to transfer to my regular line, the signs were all flashing “delayed.”

Looking down onto the tracks, there was just a sea of humanity waiting for the next train.

I made a game-time decision to leave the station and try to get a taxi or Uber. Turns out that it was good that I did because RE Mike later told me that he ended up having to walk home in the rain from 38th to the village. Nuts.

As for my Uber, it was a whopping $59 for an uber ride that normally costs $15 but I grabbed it.

Presently, an older fella picked me up. Man, he was driving insanely slow. The buses and trucks around us were moving faster.

Me: Could you drive a little faster?
Him: (pointing out the window) There’s a rainstorm.
Me: I am aware.

He finally started moving a bit faster but it still took 20 minutes to get home, for what is typically a five minute ride.

As soon as I saw my building, I dashed out the door of the whip and went to the basement. A tenant was already bailing water when I arrived.

There wasn’t much else to do but start doing the same.

So, very drunk, for the next two hours, I was bailing water and tossing yet more of the kid and Alison’s stuff.

What I got rid of is mostly stuff that is personal to me and not worth discussing. Except for my Xmas tree.

I told you when Alison and I bought the tree almost a decade ago. I have such fond memories of it. It gutted me to get rid of it. It was a good little plastic Xmas tree.

Because it was our first year, we didn’t have any ornaments for it yet.

Below’s a picture of our first Xmas dinner together. The tree would be on your left if you’re reading this. I made Coq au Vin, and she made a salad of goat cheese and pears.

Shit, fuck me.

For a moment, I was trying to think of a way of salvaging it when I realized that Alison woulda just tossed it versus allowing something that might make the kiddo sick into the house. So I did. But it was difficult.

The next day, I took inventory of everything I lost from this latest round of flooding. Speaking to my therapist, we discussed it.

Her: You talk a lot about loss and losing things. That seems to be a theme in your life.
Me: Not by choice, doc. Definitely, not by choice. Nothing gold ever stays.

Location: my damp apartment
Mood: exhausted
Music: You’ve got to know that you are good as gold (Spotify)
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Hanging with Ida and Steve, Pt 1

Why, certainly

Him: You wanna go to a Steve Aoki convert with me and RE Mike tonight?
Me: Potentially – I’m a bit worried about flooding in my apartment.
RE Mike: That’s a yes.

My buddy around the way, RE Mike, and I used to randomly call each other up whenever we got leads on parties.

Met Sue through them at onea those events. But that’s neither here nor there.

Can’t count how many times I’d show up at some fancy event with celebrities and one of those two would float me in.

Was in the middle of rolling around with Chad and my buddy Miller when they hit me up.

Hurricane Ida was supposed to hit but it didn’t look so bad so I left Paxi a bit early and headed there in the rain.

It had just started getting bad when I left the gym. But I figured it would be ok.

Always figure things will be ok. I never learn.

In any case, think out of maybe 50-70 parties with those two, don’t think I ever paid for a drink or a cover.

Tonight was no different. RE Mike met me out side of the venue and handed me a bracelet. No questions asked, they just let me in.

Should note that – because I wasn’t prepared to go out to a private concert and I was coming from the gym, I was crazy armed.

Like…psycho-level armed, for reasons we don’t need to get into but they were all valid and non-psycho. Honest.

Had about three real knives, a pair of pliers, two pens, a razor blade and at least four trainer knives.

Bouncer: Come right in. Will you check you bag though, sir?
Me: Why, certainly.

Stepping into the joint was like every other thing the two invited me to; open bar, beautiful people, and wall-to-wall food.

Him: There’s sushi and oysters being passed around.
Me: I expect nuthin less with you two.

Think the only time I had more oysters was that time with Mouse when we had four dozen. Came close, though. Demolished that tray below.

The main attraction was Steve Aoki and, man, does that dude know how to put on a show.

And, because it was an open bar, I had myself:

      • An Old-Fashioned with Rye
      • A Negroni
      • And an Amaretto on the rocks

Her: You just want Amaretto on the rocks?
Me: Yes, darling. If it’s bad, I’ll just blame you.
Her: (laughs) Hey!

It was shaping up to be a pretty good night but, my luck is ever true and I got a call from someone in my building.

Her: Water’s coming in.
Me: Dammit.

And so I ran out the door.

It’s late. I just spent the night bailing water so I’ll finish this up tomorrow.

Location: my flooded apartment
Mood: livid
Music: Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh oh, ‪if it all goes wrong, darling just hold on (Spotify)
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