Month: February 2022

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personal

Taking it apart

My pretty but dead dreams

I built that crib with Alison on September 13th, 2015. She was in her last trimester at the time and insisted that she help but I had her just direct for the most part.

Seven years later, I finally took it apart.

Well, not me, a fella from my gym that helps us out with stuff. I couldn’t do it.

Just like when my friends came by to paint it at the height of COVID two years ago, it was just something that I kept putting off.

Alison took that picture above, almost as a joke. I didn’t know she had brain cancer at that moment.

Put it off for two things, really.

One was Alison, of course. She was a part of that crib, just like she was a part of how that room used to look. The other was that I think I was hoping that maybe Mouse and I might have a kid of our own.

But they’re both gone now and the kid deserves to have a bed that matches his age instead of me clinging onto all my pretty, but dead, dreams.

When my buddy left, I sat down to finish the bottle of rum I’ve had sitting on my countertop.

I always have a bottle of fine aged rum on my countertop.

But, I decided against it and put it back. Had a cup of tea instead.

Baby steps, yeah?

Do you see the little boy’s outfit hanging on the closet knob in the background?

For a while now, I’ve been giving a lot of the kid’s clothes to Mouse to send off to her relative in the Ukraine.

The kid last wore that in December of 2019, when we went to that Christening in NJ. I always thought the kid looked adorbs in it.

That was something that I’d been meaning to give her for some time now, along with some other stuff for them, but I just hadn’t gotten around to it.

The thought that there’s some little boy running around in Ukraine, scared and confused, younger than my own kid, wearing my kid’s clothes, bothers me in a way I can’t fully express except to say that it’s fucking bullshit.

He’d be the same age as my kid was in that pic above.

It’s bullshit that some innocent kid has to pay for a billionaire’s greed for more fucking money.

I wonder if he’s dressed in one of my son’s outfits now. It bothers me because – but for time and tide – that couldn’ve been my kid.

Well, I guess I could express it, after all…

Doesn’t make it any less bullshit. Maybe I should have that drink after all.

 

Her: Why didn’t you tell me you were in LA? I would have seen you.
Me: I know. I had a lot going on. Have.
Her: What’s new? You’ll see me next time, though, yes?
Me: Of course, darling. Promise.
Her: (laughing) You and your promises.

Location: earlier today, waiting for the pool shower
Mood: trying to stay in the golden mean
Music: I don’t really feel bad news anymore (Spotify)
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personal

My silly little blog

I’m Home

Her: OK, here’s the deal. You can have your silly little blog, just don’t mention me. And if you do want to mention me, just…don’t.
Me: (nodding) My silly little blog and I appreciate the accommodation.

It feels weird writing about my silly little life in the face of truly jaw-dropping world events.

Don’t recall being glued to the news as much as I have recently, outside of when 9/11 happened.

Things feel the same. I suppose that’s a post for the future but I just wanna wrap up a few loose ends from my last few posts.

I’ve had some version of this blog since 2005, with 2006.09.17 being my first entry here.

In that time, I’ve had a handful of people mad at me for something I wrote about them but that would happen like once a year, if that. Alison got mad at me for maybe one or two entries, total.

But in the past two weeks, I’ve had no less than four people mad about something I wrote. Even when I use pseudonyms and don’t post identifiable pictures, they’re still upset.

So, unless I get clear OKs to write about someone, I’m just not going to mention other people at all.

Him: Yeah, I’d appreciate that.
Me: Hokay.

Part of the reason I went out to California was to try and track down a friend that disappeared after COVID went down.

He’s pretty wealthy and well-connected, but intensely private, and just *poof* disappeared one day.

I’ve tried all my regular means of reaching him to no avail so I ended up heading out to LA to try and meet up with a woman I know he orbited around once. That didn’t go well.

Me: I’m in LA, if you’re free.
Her: Good for you. I’m not. You should have thought this out better.
Me: Evidently. Look, I just wanna know if he’s alive.
Her: How would I know, Logan? Let it go.
Me: This is going well.

On the flip side, a fella I knew from NYC was also in LA, purely by happenstance.

Me: What are you doing here? I thought you were in Nicaragua.
Him: My buddy called and said the house next to his was on the market so I bought it.
Me: Man, it must be good to have that kinda scratch. You free for lunch on Monday?
Him: Sure, let’s do it.

We ended up meeting around my brother’s pad. He’d never been to that part of the town so we met up and ordered a plate of food called “The Family Table” that was supposed to feed a family of four.

Me: This is not gonna be enough food.

We ended up ordered The Family Table, two large specialty rolls, and two other dishes.

 

He’s a guy that sold several companies to Google and Facebook but studied a lotta philosophy.

We spent the entire time arguing about the ethics of having children.

It was one of the more interesting and enlightening conversations I’ve had in my life but, in light of everyone that got mad at me for writing about them in my blog, I’ll just leave it at that.

Was still hungry afterward and ended up buying some pastries before heading back to my brother’s.

Spent the rest of the time eating and working on some things that’ve been percolating in my brain for a while.

I just needed to get somewhere else to figure it all out.

The morning I was going back, I order $40 worth of food at Lucky Boy, including a foot-long chili dog with chili and onions, another large bag of onion rings, a breakfast burrito with carne asada and a fish burrito for my brother.

This was my brekkie; those yellow logs are like 10 inches long.

It was the first time in ages – ages – that I couldn’t finish everything.

Also, I realized that I was gonna be in a tube for the next six hours and eating all that food was probably not the best idea.

Me: I have made a terrible miscalculation here.

BUT the trip back ended up being uneventful. I wrote my mother-in-law that I had a cast-iron stomach.

Even I couldn’t believe I didn’t have a gastronomic accident in the air.

Ended up hopping the LIRR back and was home in less than an hour.

Me: I’m home! (sighing) I’m home.

Location: earlier today, playing tag with the boy
Mood: gutted
Music: I just thought I would have you all my life (Spotify)
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personal

Opinion: Understanding the 2022 Russo-Ukrainian Conflict

(c) Financial Times

It’s about the money

I interrupt my usual talk about nuthin to discuss yet another topic I know very little about. As you read this, please keep in mind that I’m basically a stay-at-home dad that owns a gym so everything I’m about to say is most likely nonsense.

Just like everyone else in the world, I think I’m right, though.

In 2015, Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) said that “Russia is a gas station masquerading as a country.”

This was echoed recently by Harvard economist Jason Furman who went further to say Russia’s economy is “incredibly unimportant in the global economy except for oil and gas….[i]t’s basically a big gas station.”

What Putin is selling to the world right now, however, isn’t gas but the following story: The Ukrainians are essentially Russian and he’s just trying to unify them and protect them.

I call bullshit. But hold that thought.

(c) Wikipedia

Let’s turn to 1931 Japan for a hot second.

See, that’s when Japan sought to create the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere (GEACPS) by saying that, “[w]e’re all Asian. We need to unite against white people. We’re gonna do that by taking over everyone so we can adequately protect you all.”

Sound familiar?

Under the banner of GEACPS, Japan did all manners of incredibly fucked-up shit.

But, according to Washington Post reporter Daniel Yergin, this was all bullshit – of course – it was for something a lot simpler: Oil.

Japan had – and has – zero oil and realized that it needed to invade other countries to acquire oil, hence all the GEACPS bullshit.

Things hit a massive bump when Japan invaded China in 1937, freaking out the US and causing the US to freeze all oil sales to Japan on August 1st, 1941. This action, plus the freezing of Japanese assets the month prior in July of 1941, directly caused the Asian Theatre portion of World War II.

 

Back to today, 2022.

Here, we have the same situation in reverse; Russia isn’t in need of energy – in this case, gas not oil – it has too much of it. And nuthin else. That’s all it has. Think of the last Russian car, jeans, movie, you purchased. I’m guessing you can’t.

All they have is a shitton of gas but, lucky for them, the world could use that.

But, just like most things in the world, it’s not the product itself that’s the issue, it’s the getting of the product to the consumer’s hands that’s the issue.

(c) Wikipedia

That’s why you’ve probably read about the Nord 2 pipeline; that’s this big-ass pipe Russia’s been building for the past ten years or so to get its gas to Germany and the rest of Europe.

But how’s Russia been able to get its gas to Europe for the past ten years while they’re building this damn thing?

BAM! Ukraine, baby.

Well, Ukraine and Belarus. But Belarus is essentially Russia. Check out the map below.

(c) Wikipedia

Here’s where things get nuts. Well, nuttier.

See, Ukraine and Russia worked out a deal where Russia would pay it for transport of gas from Russia via those red lines you see above. Irritating for a fella like Putin but business is business, right?

Except in 2009, Ukraine was accused of skimmin a little off the top for themselves. The facts, on both sides, were a little muddy but kinda irrelevant: Putin believed that they were stealing gas and that was when things really started heating up between the two countries, ending up where we are today.

I’m a New Yorker. There’s one thing you learn early on in NY; you don’t mess around with organized crime. And you sure as hell don’t interfere in the money-making ventures of organized crime.

But imagine a mob that ran a country and only had one single thing of value (albeit a shitton of that one thing) and (a) you were responsible for distribution of that thing to their biggest customer and (b) you were thought to have skimmed a little off the top?

Well, if you know anything about Bugsy Siegal and/or watched Casino, you know how well that worked out.

A poster of the film Casino. Distributed by Universal Pictures

I’m, not-at-all, blaming the Ukraine for this mess. They’re just trying to get paid for use of their land and the people of Ukraine are just trying to live.

They’ve been at war for years now, with Ukraine having battle-hardened soldiers ready to fight.

But Russia’s still bigger in every sense of the word and they’re betting that it’s easier, and cheaper, to take over the Ukraine a la Belarus than keep paying Ukraine.

What NATO has to do is convince them that the economic cost of trying to take over the Ukraine is gonna cost a lot more than just paying them rent.

Hence alla the sanctions.

It’s anyone’s guess if they can do that.

Russia is willing to start WWIII under the same pretenses of Japan in WWII. Probably with the same disastrous results.

None of this is good. And it’s gonna get a lot worse before it gets better.

Location: earlier today, wondering if we should move to Montana
Mood: concerned
Music: Man, I had a dreadful flight (Spotify)
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personal

The Golden Mean

A last-minute weekend trip out to LA

Me: I have to go away for a few days.
Her: Why?
Me: I need to quiet my head. And see about a friend.
Her: You’re going to travel across the country for that? Are you insane?
Me: (shrugging) Depends on who you ask.

Before meeting Alison, I spent several years working on the Golden Mean, which is a philosophical pursuit where you try and cut out the highs and lows from your life.

Lisa Simpson summed it up best:

Obviously, you understand why one would want to cut out the lows but cutting out the highs is also necessary because, well, what goes up, must come down.

Man, that crash is rough when it happens. And it always happens.

Anywho, after meeting Alison, the Golden Mean was all but impossible because our lows were so very low. The past six or seven years have been a rollercoaster of emotions.

It’s time to get off.

Too much was happening in NYC: I just got injured (again), several people were mad at me (again), and I was dealing with too much emotion (again).

So, I rang my brother, hoping to reset.

Me: Can I crash with you for a few days?
Him: Sure.
Me: OK. I’ll catch the next flight to you.

A few hours later, I was up at 5AM. The night before, I spoke to a friend.

Her: You’re going to take a cab to the airport, right?
Me: Well…
Her: Logan, you’re not taking the subway to JFK that early. You read the papers. Take a cab.

Of course, I took the subway at 5:30 AM.

But, because of track-work, it turns out that the train I needed wasn’t running. At all.

So, I transferred to another train, and then another one, and then another one.

Finally, because of my latest injury, I gave up and hopped out somewhere in Queens and a cab was literally right outside the station when I came out – not another soul about.

It was kismet.

Him: Where to?
Me: (hopping in) JFK.
Him: Oh, where are you going?
Me: To see my brother, maybe find an old friend of mine, and see the California sun.

Made it to the airport and past the insanely long security check with just ten minutes to spare.

That’s not entirely true; my flight was delayed.

Which is fine because my ankle was very unhappy with me. Eventually, I boarded and sat next to a pretty lady and we chatted for a bit.

Her: What do you do?
Me: Drink and daydream about my possible pasts. You?

Six hours later, I arrived in LA. My brother picked me up.

Him: How was your trip?
Me: (hopping in) Not the best. But I’m glad to be here.
Him: Wanna pick up some Lucky Boy? Onion rings?
Me: Sure. Get the large onions rings.
Him: That’s waaayy too many onion rings.
Me: It’ll be fine.

It was waaayy too many onion rings.

That white bag is fulla huge onion rings. Huge.

Location: earlier today, trying to pass a guard in Union Square
Mood: in the Golden Mean
Music: LA – I’ll stay long enough to say I tried (Spotify)
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personal

Women don’t get that luxury, Logan

Horror and a buncha random texts

Lately, my life’s been a whirlwind of things, almost all bad. Don’t even know where to start.

Since my injury in October, I’ve been to physical therapy for months. Finally got cleared to go back on the mats – without a brace – about two weeks ago.

Well, earlier this week, stepped onto the mats and someone I was sparring with got hold of my ankle and torqued it so hard that one girl said she heard it across the room.

She was so concerned that she wrote me, which was super sweet. We have some solid people in our gym.

(In our gym’s defense, this was a visitor and not one of our normal guys.)

It happened in a flash; I didn’t have a chance to tap. In terms of pain, it was just slightly less than the time I popped my ACL.

Regardless, after four months of being in rehab, two weeks of limited normalcy, I’m right back to where I started in October and injured again.

It’s less than ideal.

HEI saw my post and, like a million people I know, is dealing with her own health issues, so she shot me this.

There’s definitely something in the air.

Me: No! My LEFT hand. You have to hold my LEFT hand.
Him: But why?
Me: Because…because I need my right hand free.

I’ve been in my head a lot lately for a number of reasons I’m still trying to sort out.

Unfortunately, it’s hard to think clearly about anything what with the rising lunacy of the city.

The recent horrific and senseless killings of Christina Yuna Lee and Michelle Go – both Asian women – has my female and Asian friends on high alert.

I’m already stressed walking around with my kid when I’m relatively healthy. Being injured all these months have made matters worse. This latest injury, all the more so.

Plus, I feel bad for the kid because he’s too young to understand.

Although I recently met up with a young woman and her nine-year-old daughter and the topic of Christina Yuna Lee came up.

Maybe I shouldn’t keep him for knowing the world as it really is.

Daughter: Who was that (Christina Yuna Lee)?
Me: A woman, who got hurt.
Woman: (correcting me to her daughter) No. She was killed. She was killed by a stranger.
Me: (later) Don’t you think she’s a little young to know about these types of horrors?
Woman: (shaking her head) Girls don’t get that luxury of not knowing these things, Logan. Women don’t get that luxury.

I get that, I suppose, as much as a guy can get that.

Everything’s a horror these days but I forget that horror comes in layers of more horror.

Him: Are you mad to me?
Me: (shaking head) No, I’m sorry. Papa’s foot hurts and I’m just…frustrated.
Him: If I could, I’d carry you!
Me: (smiling) I know you would, kid. I know you would. Here, take my hand. My left hand. My other left, kid.

A babysitter I recently hired shot me this text and I was both flattered and somewhat creeped out.

This happens to me with some regularity so I can only imagine what a woman’s life must be like.

Actually, TBH, I’d rather not.

Location: waiting for the subway elevator
Mood: a bad mix
Music: wish that I could go back and say, “Hey, now or never” (Spotify)
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A Strange & Complicated Evening Pt 2: Putting on the Mask

Afraid of Yesterday

Me: Technically, any woman I meet is your competition and any man you meet is mine.
Her: (laughing) Oh, Logan…they’re not my competition.
Me: Fair.

It turns out the Counselor was in the same hospital, the same building, the same floor – the same wing – that Alison was during the early part of her illness.

Of course.

Felt that same feeling of “this can’t possibly be real,” that I felt for most/all of her sickness that I hadn’t felt in a really long time. It was an unwelcome but familiar feeling.

Dunno why but, I decided to go see the Counselor and – as if by auto-pilot – made my way from the gym to the Upper East Side.

That’s not true. I do know why I went to see her. There were two reasons, in fact, but more on that later.

Visiting hours were long closed but I managed to convince the guard to let me in after a solid 15 minutes of chatting with her. The truth is a powerful thing and I think the guard knew it would be good for the Counselor (and me) if I made it upstairs.

When I walked into the hospital, I was greeted with the same view that I first saw the day I first went there with Alison in that goddamn ambulance.

It was just missing the Christmas tree.

I walked past the same everything that I did all those years ago and tried to keep it together as I maneuvered my way past several security guards, nurses, and various support staff, alla whom noted that I didn’t have a Visitors Pass a solid hour after visiting hours ended.

I was clearly not supposed to be there. I suppose a bright red leather jacket doesn’t help matters.

But, after all that, I finally made it to her room and walked in.

As always, during times like this, I put on my mask: I pushed all that doubt to the side of my mouth, straightened my back, took a deep breath, put on a big smile, and walked in to see a set of pretty eyes.

Me: This is a terrible date venue you picked, I gotta say.

I settled onto the windowsill and looked out across the river to see the exact same view I saw all those years ago.

Me: (staring out) These windows don’t open all the way, you know?
Her: I didn’t.
Me: (nodding) Yeah. I tried to jump out of them years ago and I found that out.

It got a little darker than that but I was there to try to cheer her up, not bring her down.

As comedy relief, her roommate would let out a hacking cough (non-COVID related) every so often while we were in a deep conversation, which doesn’t sound funny but it was such an odd situation that it was.

There’s more, quite a bit more, but most of that’s her story and not mine to tell, as always.

I’ll just tell you that she’s probably going to be fine.

I was glad I went. Can’t remember the last time someone was that happy to see me. Forgot what it was like to have some kindness. That was probably the most attractive thing about her.

Her: It was sweet of you to come.
Me: (shaking head) No, not at all. I just wanted to make sure you were ok. You should get some rest.

So, that’s the first reason I went. Honestly couldn’t tell you if she was more grateful that I went or if I was more grateful that she let me see her.

The second reason, though, was that I’ve been forcing myself to not think of Alison for…years now. Think I knew that, if I went to that hospital, I’d be forced to think of her and remember her.

And I wanted that.

As I made my way downstairs, everything came rushing back at me at once. The smell of the place, the feeling of dread, it hit me as I felt as if it was December of 2015 all over again. Like it was yesterday.

By the time I got to the ground floor, I went straight to the same bathroom that I threw up in twice before over Alison and did it once again.

Honestly, though, after I cleaned myself off and left, I felt better.

I remembered Alison. I remembered that version of me; the one that was a new father, trying desperately to save his wife he loved more than anything.

Not knowing that they were all already fucked.

My gift, if you will, is to forget. It’s a survival mechanism and part of why I have this blog; because I know I’ll forget things. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now.

After all, fear is forward, no one is afraid of yesterday.

I walked outside, hopped a cab home, and was neck-deep in my thoughts when the Acrobat called.

Her: How was your night?
Me: You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

It was a short convo. I was worried about the Counselor, which sounds silly as she’s a stranger to me. But she didn’t deserve anything that had happened to her.

After a while, I shot a text to my mother-in-law asking if she was awake and she replied yes.

So, I rang her and told her what happened.

Me: I try so hard to forget Alison. And I feel guilty about that. But I just wanted you to know that…I loved her so much, mom. (deep breath) I loved her so much.
Her: (gently) I know, Logan. Try to get some rest.

Location: just north of Solas, being tossed out like garbage
Mood: don’t even know how to begin to tell you
Music: I’m gonna need somebody (Spotify)
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dating

A Strange & Complicated Evening Pt 1: Sounds Class

No, no time at all

My friend Bridget hit me up the other day. There’s a bidding war going on for her skills in business and she asked if we could meet up for dinner on Thursday.

I already had a date lined up with the Counselor later on that night but the timing actually worked out.

Me: If you’re up for Korean, we can head to Koreatown.
Bridge: Koreatown sounds class, let’s do that, you pick the place.

The weather was just lovely so we took a walk from 18th Street to 32nd Street. Along the way, I showed her where Alison and I went on our first date all those years ago.

Here’s a picture of Alison that I snapped right before I walked up to her to tell her that I was there.

Man, I loved that girl. Fuck me.

Bridge: You know we’ve known each other close to 20 years?
Me: (laughing) Has it been that long?
Her: You know what I hate the most about that?
Me: What?
Her: You haven’t aged a day. Nadi and I both hate that about you.

I actually interviewed her for her gig all those years ago. I liked her immediately. She had this really cool Irish brogue to boot.

This was being filmed on the walk up.

After we settled into my go-to Korean restaurant, I reminded her that she and her husband were the last people to see Alison out and about, socially.

Her: (thinking) I’ve been wondering when I should bring this up.
Me: What?
Her: (slowly) We’re divorcing. It’s been a long time coming.
Me: I have to say, Alison always wondered why you were with him.

That unpleasantness aside, we honestly both had a great time hanging out.

Her: …I have about 45 people reporting to me.
Me: Jesus Christ. I remember meeting you when all you had was crazy ambition. Now look at you. My cousin Ras has this saying that she loves and you’re kinda the definition of it: You’re a Boss Bitch.
Her: (laughing) I like it.
Me: Now, how can I make this work for me?

Afterward, I walked her back to the train station.

Her: I hope you give one of these women a chance. (gently) The lawyer sounds promising. Give her a chance. The others…
Me: We’ll see. I’m in a weird headspace.

That was totally true.

After she left, I thought about everything we discussed and started getting really angry. It’s irrational, I know.

See, it turns out that he was drinking himself to death. They’ve got two kids and hearing that made me so…angry.

Alison and my dad struggled for so long to survive and this dude was killing himself instead of dealing with his demons.

But then I realized I did the same thing myself for years and, somehow, that just made me angrier.

Decided to head back to the gym and, while I was changing, Chad noticed that I wasn’t myself.

Him: Are you ok?
Me: I’m drunk and I’m angry.
Him: How angry?
Me: Murderously.
Him: OK, then you gotta go.
Me: (nodding)

So, less than five minutes after I arrived, I changed yet again, and walked out the door.

Had to pull myself together because I was meeting up with the Counselor. I was so messed up that I drafted a message to her asking her for a rain check.

But she actually beat me to the punch before I could send it.

Counselor: Hey, I’m sooo sorry to do this but I have to reschedule our date tonight. I had a bit of an emergency come up and I just can’t get around it. I’m super disappointed I have to cancel.
Me: Do you not have any time at all?

This was her response:

Her: No, no time at all.

That was the start of one of the strangest and complicated evenings I’ve ever had.

And I’ve had many strange and complicated evenings in this life.

Location: earlier today, running into a possible past downtown
Mood: not sober
Music: When the world goes changing, I will be your sure thing (Spotify)
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The Floater

Rising rapidly in the rankings

Friend: Please, you seek out [rich and successful] people.
Me: That’s not exactly true.

It’s been a strange few weeks.

Some important people in my life left, some came back, and some seem to have just arrived.

Still trying to make sense of it all.

Saw some college friends – along with their kids – this past weekend.

Never told you this but the head surgeon at one of the major hospitals is a buddy of mine.

When Alison had one of her billion surgeries, she was super weak and couldn’t make the return trip to remove the staples in her skull. So, he made a house call, came over, and removed them for us. No questions asked.

It was a super kind gesture for a dude that is ridonk high-ranking in NYC. He never saw her again.

It hurt me to write that.

Dunno why I feel compelled to tell you that.

We met again at the party in NJ from a few years back. And this past weekend, I brought the boy to his (ginormous!) apartment in Chelsea after the kid and I met his brother and nephew for dim sum in Chinatown.

It was bittersweet. The boy, however, had a blast.

Him: Do we have to go?
Me: ‘Fraid so, kiddo.
Him: Awwwww…

Speaking of doctors, got fixed up with one recently. Totally my type BUT just zero chemistry.

Me: If you were trapped on a desert island, what would be the one thing you’d want to have?
Her: Why would I be trapped on a desert island?

That’s how the entire evening was. It was like pulling teeth. God, I hate dating.

Although, we did discuss just that.

Her: Well, there is this one guy. He’ll never commit but it’s hard to just stop things with him.
Me: Ah, a floater. I had a floater of my own for a while, once. So, I get it. But ultimately, it’s all just a waste of everyone’s time.

While I was chatting with her, a smoking hot lawyer that I met recently hit me up.

She actually WAS a law professor while I only wished to be one.

Her: It’s been an extreeeeeeeemely [long day]. And it’s not looking like it’s wrapping up anytime soon. What are you up to?
Me: I’m writing you on a date if that means anything. I’m an awful person but I’m bored to tears at the moment.
Her: Do you need an emergency work call? Just say the word.
Me: I would but I’m trying to wrap this up naturally.

It’s funny, you kinda realize what you want more when presented with a better option.

So, I took it.

Me: (exiting) Another date-to-nowhere, over.
Her: Ugh, those are the worst. I’m at least marginally more fun.

Thought about what my friend said about my seeking out rich and successful people. There’s some truth to that but it’s along the same lines as, “I married Alison for her money.”

It’s not that I want to be friends with them because they’re wealthy and wildly successful, it’s that they made them themselves wealthy and wildly successful. That ambition and drive is what attracts me.

Told you once that you’re the average of the five people that you hang out with the most.

When you have a relationship with someone, you don’t just have a relationship with them, you have a relationship with the five people they hang out with the most, and the five people that each one of those five hang out with and so on.

And if they’re all lame with zero ambition, that rubs off on them, and – ultimately – on you.

A buddy once told me that he hung out with me so much that he became me. But, I realized that he actually became the person he was crushing on since high school because that’s who he spends the most time floating around and aspiring to be.

The thing is that I stopped hanging out with his crush – who’s, honestly, quite nice but just so…lame; she’s not particularly bad, but she’s also not particularly anything, really.

And I realized that I continued hanging out with him, the lameness of his crush would glom onto me and I couldn’t have that.

It probably sounds elitist to you, but there are 7.753 billion people in the world and you can’t hang out with all of them.

Why not have your five be wildly successful versus just meh?

Besides, now that I’ve got the kid, gotta be very careful who I let into his life. Because they’ll leave a bit of themselves with me, and I’ll – in turn – leave them with him.

Which, depending on the person, might not be a bad thing.

Her: Actually, the case I’m working on is in the papers right now. Google, [my client] and you can read up on where we are right now.
Me: (minutes later) Holy shitballs, Counselor! (later) I’m super turned on right now. You’re rising rapidly in the rankings
Her: (laughing) Does first place get a gold star?
Me: (scoffing) Please, I’m the prize! What woman wouldn’t want a neurotic and clumsy, but somewhat charming, non-practicing Ivy-League-educated lawyer that fights and cooks?
Her: (continues laughing)

Location: earlier today, showing Chad now to remove a flapper
Mood: stupidly optimistic
Music: Got some brand new wings. No, we won’t go back. (Spotify)
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personal

Parenting Drama Pt 2 – Educate the Children

It’s French

I’m sure you remember the Pythagorean theorem from grammar school.

But, Pythagoras was also a philosopher, with a quote I’ve always liked: Educate the children and it won’t be necessary to punish the men.

Obvs, let’s make it gender neutral.

That’s kinda how I look at my responsibility when it comes to teaching this kid. If I screw it up, he’ll bear the punishment for my failures, not me. Can’t have that.

On the flip side, though, I wonder if I’m too strict. Spoke to my mom not that long ago:

Her: I think you’re too hard on him.
Me: I’m too hard on him?! Have you met you? You were super hard on us.
Her: Noooooo.
Me: You’ve got to be kidding me.
Her: (ignoring me) He’s such a good boy. Be easier on him.
Me: What planet am I on right now?

Now, before we went to the party together last weekend, I was supposed to have a sitter come in for part of the day but she totally flaked with on me, first with this excuse:

Her next text was saying the snow was too much. Very annoying.

But, the boy and I ended up having a really fun time the whole weekend, starting out in Central Park with his classmates.

And the next day, it was literally just him and me in this playground the entire morning.

Man, being a parent is stressful. Dunno if any of these choices I’m making are the right ones, but I hope they are.

Him: I’m bore…
Me: Don’t say it! Don’t say it.
Him: Fiiiiine. I’m going to play my ukulele. (walks away)
Me: (under breath) Just don’t start a band, drop out of school, and become a musician.
Him: What?
Me: I said, have fun!

Mouse was in the city, so she and I grabbed dinner around the way. Purely as friends.

Me: You drove all the way in so, obviously, my treat.
Her: French/Japanese. Something flavorful.

We ended up going to the same bistro I went to the other day with Chad and friends.

Me: A Croque Madame is essentially a grilled cheese with ham and an egg.
Her: That’s an insane price for a grilled cheese.
Me: (shrugging) It’s French.

We went to a bar around the way, but it was closed so we went to another bar down the street.

It was late when she went home.

Once wrote that I was never friends with a serious ex.

But I’m trying new things because we’re both part of the fabric of each other’s lives. Still, it’s complicated.

Her: Get out.
Me: (sighing) Hokay, I’ll try again tomorrow.

Ended up having a completely sleepless night because I’m not used to eating or drinking at night – I’m still doing intermittent fasting so I rarely consume anything after 6PM.

Just as well.

The Acrobat: What are you up to?
Me: Talking to you, evidently.

Location: earlier today, in the third nicest apartment I’ve ever been in. This time, right outside the gym
Mood: so fulla carbs, you wouldn’t believe
Music: classy girls don’t kiss in bars, you fool (Spotify)
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Parenting Drama Pt 1

Dude!

My son’s picking up some interesting words at school.

Him: Dude! It’s so late.
Me: What? Why are you calling me dude?
Him: I dunno, dude.
Me: Well, the teenage years are gonna be rough.

That word, honestly, doesn’t bother me so much.

The word that does bother me, no end, is bored. Especially as it pertains to school.

He’s reading at a third-grade level and also doing long division while the other kids are…not.

What I don’t want for him is to be like my brother and me. If you think I’m smart, think of me as Sherlock and my brother as Mycroft – my brother’s significantly smarter than me.

There’s no comparison between the two of us, really. And I’m fine with that because he’s paid dearly for his intelligence. But that’s his story, not mine.

Still, my kid is far more like my brother than me. Which worries me.

I was pretty unhappy as a kid. My brother was miserable.

In any case, stuff my kid said caught the ear of his teacher, who had to contact the guidance counselor, who then contacted me. It was the start of a series of annoying meetings.

Teacher: I just want you to know, he’s the happiest kid I know. I don’t think he’s upset, I think he’s just bo..
Me: Bored. He’s looking to stir things up.
Her: Yes. But I’m required to tell the counselor.
Me: I get it.

Guidance Counselor: Mr. Lo, your son is just the most adorable kid! Can I say that?
Me: I think you just did.
Her: (later) I don’t think he means it. I think he’s just a little bo…
Me: Bored. Yup. He’s looking to stir things up.
Her: Yes. Would you consider putting him in the G&T classes?
Me: Absolutely not. Absolutely not. I want him normal. I want him to have a normal life. I don’t want that for him.

So, what to do? I knew this was gonna happen, which is why I look at school as teaching him social skills.

I’ll teach him math, science, English, history, and everything else he needs to know. I just need him in school to keep him socially normal.

As for the boredom, I’ve been bringing the kid with me to my jits classes here and there. I just want to acclimate him to the life.

Last Friday, Mouse was there and was nice enough to offer us a lift back.

Watching the two of them talk is just the sweetest thing. Because she’s just so good at connecting with him.

Her: Were you just trying to be different?
Him: (laughing) Yeah…

They have a really sweet and special bond and I’m grateful for that.

It was really nice to spend time seeing the two of them interact, although we all had a lot more time to interact than we had expected.

Me: Shoot, there’s a ton of traffic
Her: I think there was an accident.
Him: Oh! Let I smell smoke!

Of course, we were hoping everyone was alright.

I brought him in to watch TV for a bit and stepped outside to chat with Mouse in the car.

Thought about the possible pasts again, as you might imagine.

Me: Thanks for the lift home.
Her: Sure.

Location: earlier today, trying to get from 14th Street to 79th Street in 20 minutes
Mood: parental
Music: I got your back, I will be near (Spotify)
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