Month: July 2022

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personal

Still speaking Martian, Pt 1

With a Queens accent

Him: I don’t wanna go to camp!
Me: I wish I had camp as a kid! (annoyed) For goodness sakes, why not?!
Him: (sadly) I don’t want to be away from you, Papa!

Well, I’m a jerk.

Just got back from a 12-hour Scenic Fights shoot. Pac, Chad, and the resta the crew are still there shooting.

I suppose that I’ll tell you more about the shoot some other time but Pac was there along with the producer, who – like Pac and me – grew up in Queens.

Pac: (insert very questionable language here)
Me: It’s funny. I spent years trying to hide my Queens accent and speech patterns and you highlight it.
Him: Why would you do that?
Me: (shrugging) Long story. You know, I stopped cursing when I was 18 and started up again just a few years ago?

Told you once that I read the entire side of a library once. But never told you why.

What were your summers like as a kid? Camp? Parties? Just hanging out with friends in a basement?

Mine were nuthin like that at all.

Like I said, I grew up poor. Really poor. Air conditioning was essentially non-existent.

But the local library had air conditioning and both my parents worked full time.

So, every summer from third to roughly seventh grade was about the same: I would wake up, eat, and walk to the library – either by myself or with my mom – and sit at the entrance of the library and wait for it to open.

Here’s what it looks like, same as it did when I was nine years old.

I knew the librarian there so well. She wore a red sweater no matter what the temperature was outside because, man, that AC inside was kicking.

I was always the only kid sitting outside, waiting for the library to open, unless my brother or sister were with me. Then I/we would go in and read.

I read until they kicked me out. They literally kicked me out every night. Although I did head home in the middle of the day for lunch.

This lady named Susan Wiggs once said that, “You’re never alone when you’re reading a book.” And that makes sense to me because those books were my friends.

I read entire series of books – every single one of the Little House books, all the Narnia ones (The Horse and His Boy was always my fave – The Silver Chair sucked.), all the Great Brain books, all the Sherlock Holmes books, all the Tom Brown books, the entirety of the World Book Encyclopedia – for serious – all of Bullfinch’s Mythology, etc.

By the time I was 15, I was reading 750 words a minute. I still read about 650-750 words a minute.

I read the entire fucking wall. It took me four summers. But I read that whole goddamn wall.

These were my friends. My only friends, for most of my childhood.

It doesn’t make one well socialized. At least, not for a long while.

Ultimately, though, you either change, the world changes, or a little bit of both.

Him: Cursing is fucking great.
Me: (nodding) It’s fucking great.

I told the Counselor about my summers not that long ago. She found it both sad and endearing, which was really sweet of her.

There’s a point to alla this, though.

But it’s super late and my brain’s feels heavy, so I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow.

EDIT: Day after tomorrow. Got injured at the gym being dumb. Again.

Location: 8:42PM, just catching the train before having to wait 12 minutes for the next one, on 14th Street
Mood: nostalgic
Music: Every day’s another day to have the best day with you (Spotify)
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Movie Premier Pt 2: Jang Hyuk’s The Killer

Assassins next door

Because I knew that I was going to the film’s East Coast premier, I’d not seen the film before, so I was looking forward to it.

The last time I was in a movie theatre seems like a lifetime ago. I think it was Battle Angel Alita or Avengers: Endgame, both in 2019.

The Killer was part of the 20th Anniversary New York Asian Film Festival, that ran from July 15-31, 2022.

I vaguely remember going to another such festival years ago.

Anywho, like I said in my last entry, I sat next to the owner of Midnight Pulp, where we chatted about life and our families.

That’s all I’ll say there. Nice fella.

The movie itself was quite cool, although I do wonder how many more of the assassin-next-door types of films are possible.

This was an interesting take on the genre because it revolved around the idea of family and protecting family.

That was what stuck with me, anywho.

Afterwards, there was a brief discussion of the film and some question-and-answer.

It was pretty packed and I was beat – and pretty lit – so I just wanted to head back.

Midway off the block, though, Joong hit me up.

Him: Hi Logan, still around? We can get a photo for you with Jang Hyuk.

So, I high-tailed it back where I met up with him and the StruggleNation peeps again.

I chatted with Jang Hyuk for a bit, by way of Joong. Very cool and down to earth guy, actually.

We, briefly, discussed martial arts and violence in general. Surprisingly, his background was JKD and not kali, per se.

Chatted with a few more people before I made it out the door and took a long walk home.

I’ve been super social lately and it’s been tiring and, oddly, very sad.

But I suppose that’s another discussion for another time.

Location: yesterday, searching for a lottery place with the kid and getting caught in the rain.
Mood: sad
Music: I get carried away, carried away, from you (Spotify)
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Movie Premier Pt 1: Jang Hyuk’s The Killer

No dental

The East Coast premier of Jang Hyuk’s latest flick, The Killer: A Girl Who Deserves to Die, was in my neighborhood, just a block from my old law school.

Him: Can you make it?
Me: It’s technically walking distance from me so how could I not?

Since it was at Lincoln Center, I was thinking of inviting French Dancer or Acrobat – who are both super artsy – but I decided against it.

The last time I invited someone to a special event, it left such a bad taste in my mouth that I pretty much solo these types of things.

Shame, though. It was definitely a cool event.

Started off with a top-shelf open bar at Lincoln Ristorante.

Me: Can I get the Pyrat aged rum in a low-ball with a thick slice of orange.
Bartender: Of course!

Sweeeeeeet – it’s rare that a bar carries one of my preferred aged rums. So, the night was off to a good start.

The fella coordinating the night’s event was a guy named Joong;

Me: Oh, thanks for inviting us.
Him: No problem – actually, I’ve been a fan of Scenic Fights since you guys first came out.
Me: Get outta town!

I actually met a ton of people that said they’d seen our work. Who knows if that’s true but hope springs eternal.

He ended up introducing me to the fellas that run StruggleNation, who were also fans.

Him: Wait, you’re Logan from Scenic Fights?
Me: (laughing) Yeah. I look different when I’m wearing my lawyer clothes.
Him: You’re a lawyer?!
Me: That’s what the piece of paper on my wall says. But, to be fair, I printed it myself on a inkjet printer.

I was also introduced to the film’s distributor, his wife, and the CEO of Midnight Pulp, who ended up sitting next to me at the movie itself.

Oddly, we spent most the time talking about our kids and family.

Me: How do I know if I’m doing a good job?
Her: The fact that you question if you’re doing a good job at all, probably means you’re doing better than most.

Although it did veer off into unexpected territory.

Another Woman: I actually see you being someone like that. You could be an assassin, and no one would know.
Me: Sure, but you gotta figure there’s no dental and the hours are probably awful.
Her: (laughs) Benefits are important.
Me: Don’t I know it, lady.

After a spell, we all made our way to the theater to catch the film. Joong and his girlfriend had seen it before. Multiple times.

Her: This is actually the fourth time we’re seeing it.
Me: No kidding?
Him: Yup. Part of the job. But you’ll like it.

And he was right.

I’ll tell you about the rest tomorrow or something. I’ve been stuck in the basement of my brain for a bit.

Here’s some of the film with the Scenic Fights fellas and me.

Location: surrounded by papers, wondering where to start
Mood: remorseful
Music: Oh, don’t you put me on the back burner (Spotify)
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Always? No. Not always.

Fast as you can

Her: Have you always been such an asshole, Logan?
Me: Always? (thinking) No. Not always.

It’s been a busy – and rough – few weeks. Trying to sort it all out.

Like always.

On a related point, I was in a car with another woman from my past the other night, well past midnight.

We weren’t so much talking as she was yelling at me, unabated.

Not that it wasn’t deserved. People have always been a mystery to me; when emotions are involved, all the more so.

And with this woman, that relationship ran every single emotion in the book. Neither one of us were angels but I’m definitely not proud of myself for a lot of it.

Her: Get out.

It was a long trip back.

Wrote her an email apologizing for how things went down with us but didn’t hear back from her, which I expected. I’m not sure I’d write me back either.

She teared up in the car and I wanted, desperately, to give her a hug. But, instead, I just sat back, afraid to make things even worse.

Which would be, admittedly, impressive because it was fuck-all already.

FWIW, I never intend to hurt anyone but it seems that’s what I’m best at. Like I said years ago, I’m the skillest with my sharp objects. The killest with my blunt instruments.

My weapons of choice are a sharp tongue and blunt words.

I’ve only gotten more skilled since then, what with all the trauma.

My last serious girlfriend before Alison called me a monster. Maybe Alison was an outlier, who never saw me as I really am.

Suppose I’m grateful for that.

Have you ever heard Fiona Apple’s Fast as You Can?

There’s a line that goes, Fast as you can, baby, scratch me out, free yourself. Fast as you can, baby. Run, free yourself of me.

That sounds like a good plan for her and everyone else. I’m great at glib relationships, shit at important ones.

Except with Alison, for reasons I’ll tell you all about one day. Maybe.

But she’s no longer here. So, what about the kid? He can’t scratch me outta his life and Alison’s not here to counter-balance my beast.

I’m not good with people in any meaningful, normal way. How can I make it so that the kid is?

In a Tree Grows in Brooklyn, the mother is terrified the kids will grow up like her alcoholic husband.

I’m terrified the boy will grow up just like me.

Location: a few days ago, the middle of nowhere Brooklyn at 2AM
Mood: resigned
Music: My pretty mouth will frame the phrases that will disprove your faith (Spotify)
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Roaring back

Quickly and completely

It’s been an incredibly busy few weeks. But that’s only part of why I’ve been quiet lately.

My son’s eczema got triggered somehow and it roared back in the worst possible way.

It’s tough being a caretaker. All you can do, sometimes, is just watch and feel helpless. It’s a special type of agony.

To see him is such discomfort was heartbreaking.

He went to see the doc for a last-minute appointment and the doc tried to reassure me that he would simply grow outta it, but that didn’t really help.

And some stuff I tried made things worse, in a manner of speaking.

See, someone told me once that the beach was good for eczema so I had to go to beach a number of times to see if it would help and it both made the situation better and worse, for various reasons.

Eventually, it went away again but I also brought him back out to NJ to stay for a few days, partly because he wanted to go but also because I was hoping that being away from the city would help too.

While he was in beach, he called an old caretaker of his who told him she would call right back but didn’t.

Him: Why didn’t she call back?
Me: I don’t know. You didn’t do anything wrong. People are busy sometimes.
Him: She doesn’t like me.
Me: That’s not true at all and you know it. People are complex and there are so many other things involved that you don’t know. (gently) I’m sorry, kiddo. Hey, do you want burgers for dinner?
Him: Burgers, yay!

I just asked him about it tonight, right before bed, and he said he didn’t remember it, which gave me some relief.

I told him again that she was probably busy and cared a lot about him, to which he laughed and said that he knew.

The thing about me, and I guess him, is our immense capacity to forget.

I envy him, a bit.

The power to forget so quickly and completely is a wonderous thing. Sometimes.

Blessed are the forgetful, after all…

And his eczema’s gone again, which is even better. It actually went away a few days before he left for NJ. That’s the thing about flareups, sometimes, you have zero idea what caused them in the first place.

Plus, he’s home. Which is the best.

Location: caught in the hot rain, hoping that it’ll all gonna be ok
Mood: relieved
Music: Sunshine, I don’t mind salt in my hair and the sand in my toes (Spotify)
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Life is Sweet

Until there isn’t

Had a pretty terrifying moment earlier this week. Was walking outta Union Square to the gym when this pretty huge white dude was yelling at this younger skinny guy.

But the white guy was so focused on the skinny guy, that he didn’t notice the hooded guy following him – and clearly holding a weapon of some sort in his right hand under his sweatshirt.

Note that it was 80+ degrees that day and he had a hoodie on and his hood pulled over his head.

The skinny guy ducked into a fire station and the firemen told the white guy to just go home. It was only then that the guy stalking him crossed the street, all while eying him.

I looked around for a cop to flag down but, of course, didn’t see any. So, I popped into the nearest store and waited a bit.

The city’s becoming like it was when I was a kid. This is not a good thing.

While the boy was away, I found that heart you see above on the table. He left if for me to find. Stood and stared at it longer than you might imagine.

That was an unexpectedly sweet find. But I was also cleaning out his class stuff – he brought everything home for summer vacation – and I came across his class folder. I’d never seen it before because it was in always his classroom.

He put pictures up on it of all the people he loved the most. In the middle was his mom and someone I didn’t expect him to put up.

I’m honestly not sure how he got these pictures, let alone print them out. That kid’s gonna be a handful when he grows up.

In any case, it made me sadder than you might expect. Because they were the mothers this kid never got to grow up with.

Suppose the closest I can explain is guilt.

Guilt that I can’t give him the family he wants. It might forever be just him and me.

He’s only six and he’s lost enough, I think. I’d rather never introduce him to another person than for him to wish for things that will never be.

Her: It’s not fair, Logan. You want someone to just give you kids. What about what we want?
Me: That’s the whole point. I don’t want someone to have a kid because I want her to do it, I someone to want a kid because she wants it too.
Her: You already have a kid!
Me: We all picture the family we want in our heads. This is not, at all, what I pictured for my family.

I suppose there’s always tomorrow. Until there isn’t.

Paris keeps calling me, which I find interesting.

Because I always thought it’d be Berlin.

Nothing is ever like I expect it to be.

There was a song I loved once, that has a line that goes, Life is sweet, despite the misery.

Dunno if that’s true anymore. I find the bitterness of misery cuts through everything.

Although, life does have its moments.

So, I’ll stay until he’s ready.

Me: I missed you so much, kid.
Him: Me too, papa. What’s for dinner?

Life is Sweet
by Natalie Merchant

It’s a pity
It’s a crying shame
Who pulled you down again?
How painful it must be
To bruise so easily inside
It’s a pity
It’s a downright crime
But it happens all the time
You wanna stay little daddy’s girl
Wanna hide from the vicious world outside
But don’t cry
Know the tears’ll do no good
So, dry your eyes
Your daddy he’s the iron man
A battleship wrecked on dry land
Your mama she’s a bitter bride
She’ll never be satisfied,
And you know
That’s not right
But don’t cry
Know the tears’ll do no good
So, dry your eyes
They told you life is hard
It’s misery from the start
It’s dull and slow and painful
I tell you life is sweet
In spite of the misery
There’s so much more
Be grateful
Who do you believe?
Who will you listen to
Who will it be?
It’s high time that you decide
In your own mind
Tried to comfort you
Tried to tell you to be patient
They are blind
They can’t see
Fortune gonna come some day
All gonna fade away
Your daddy the war machine and
Your mama the long and suffering
Prisoner of what she can not see
They told you life is hard
It’s misery from the start
It’s dull and slow and painful
I tell you life is sweet
In spite of the misery
There’s so much more
Be grateful
Who do you believe?
Who will you listen to
Who will it be?
It’s high time you decide
It’s time you make up your own sweet little mind
They told you life is long
Be thankful when it’s done
Don’t ask for more
You should be grateful
But I tell you life is short
Be thankful because before you know
It will be over
‘Cause life is sweet
And life is also very short
Your life is sweet

Location: earlier tonight, on 18th Street, telling him not to cry
Mood: empty
Music: life is short. Be thankful because, before you know, it will be over (Spotify)
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Sending unsolicited duck pics

Don’t it always seem…?

My insomnia has been back with a vengeance these days.

The boy’s been away for three weeks now but, because he’s coming back soon, I met up with who I could while he was away.

On that note, I went to my office for the first time in a while. A lotta new (young) faces.

We went to the Campbell and I had some drinks with my boss before I struck up conversation with a pair of blue eyes.

I meet people every day but, just like years ago, meeting people is never the issue. It’s connecting with people of my tribe that’s the hard part.

Friend: What’s the problem? Meet someone, stick it in. It’s not rocket science.
Me: (dryly) Glad to see romance isn’t dead in 2022.

We had another Scenic Fight shoot this past weekend. It was mostly Chad and Pac because my knee’s been so jacked.

But I was busy dealing with legal issues for them, so I’ve been busy enough as it is.

My shoot was only about 2.5 hours; those guys were there from early morning to late night.

But I was running on fumes anywho, what with my knee and lack of sleep.

Pac wanted to eat, drink, and talk, though. Everyone’s got their own demons to fight.

We went to my favourite dive bar around the way. Alla the food joints near me were closed so we ordered DoorDash to bring over Korean wings.

Me: $72 for wings? That’s insane.
Him: (shrugging) Dude, I’m tired and lazy. I’m doing it.
Me: Fiiiiine…

I got a lotta ducks shirts – either ones people buy me or I buy myself – because of my tendency to send women unsolicited duck pics.

Dunno what the big deal is, frankly. Ducks are so damn cute.

Anywho, I was wearing once such shirt at this bar and the bartender and I were chatting for a bit when he says, “Hold on…” and hands me this little rubber ducky that matched my shirt perfectly.

Him: (laughing) It matches your shirt!
Me: My kid’s gonna love this, thanks!

Found it far more amusing than Pac did.

Anywho, he filled me in on his life and filled me in on some data I was missing with other things.

Him: I wanted to know your point of view.
Me: That was interesting. But, not at all, how I saw it. Here’s how I saw it…

That’s the thing with life, there’s my side, the other side, and the truth.

And that’s always the case, irrespective of what we believe.

Man, don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you got ’til it’s gone?

Location: earlier tonight, 16th Street, wondering if he was gonna take out a gun and shoot
Mood: mopey
Music: Why do you want me? (Spotify)
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The Poster Child for Lame

D-List celebrity

After two days of being unexpectedly social, I was planning to stay home to drink my sorrows away alone in my pad when NC rang me up and up invited me to go out drinking with her and her friends.

Her: I’m going to Astoria tonight with Robyn and a few friends, if you want to join us!
Me: If it’s casual, I’m in.

I remembered my old rule of never turning down an invitation.

When I only know one or two people there, all the more so because it forces me to get outta my head and be chatty.

And that’s how I found myself in Queens in the middle of night having drinks with NC, Robyn, and their friends until past midnight.

Me: It’s been a strange and sad few years, Robyn.
Her: I know. I read your blog. I know about your wife. I’m sorry.
Me: (nodding) Yeah, me too.

NC and Robyn both said they’d stop by the gym, which is sweet. The gym could use a few more cool, tough chicks.

Saturday, I was determined to stay home. My therapist said that I had a tendency to ignore painful things and busy myself so as not to deal with things.

But, I decided to hit up the gym first which ended up being a bad idea because that knee injury got worse.

Afterward, I got coffee with another friend, who I just found out is an expert fencer.

She and I were in the middle of chatting about weapons fighting when the fella sitting next to us started talking to me.

Him: I don’t mean to eavesdrop but do you shoot short videos about fighting?
Me: Yes! Scenic Fights?
Him: I’m a subscriber!

It’s, honestly, super wild to me that people recognize me from it as often as they do.

Felt compelled to stay home for the rest of the weekend but then I got a call from someone inviting me the beach.

Her: Come out! Don’t be lame.
Me: Have you met me? I’m the poster child for lame.
Her: You should swing by.
Me: (laughing) One doesn’t just swing by the southern tip of Brooklyn.
Her: People do it all the time, Logan.

Later on that week, I went to see PT Steve at his PT shop to get my knee checked out.

Me: Well?
Him: You tore your meniscus. But it doesn’t seem all that bad. Just do the exercises you did before and rest.

Sounds pretty on-brand for me.

In any case, when I don’t wanna be social, I end up being way more social than I expect. When I wanna be social, it’s crickets.

Honestly, though, I need to rest up because we have another Scenic Fights shoot happening this Sunday.

Pac and I were going over our notes, plus trying to figure out how to get to an opening night movie showing that we all got invited to the following week.

It’s weird being a D-list celebrity. All I ever wanted to be known for is writing and being a good husband and father. If wishes were horses…

Me: We should be fine, three good-looking fellas like ourselves…
Him: (interrupting) Well, two of us are good looking.
Me: You rat bastard…

Location: earlier tonight, 14th Street, wondering if I should call.
Mood: pensive
Music: Surrounded by many alone in this crowd (Spotify)
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Ruining my own weekend plans

Wanting things to be different

I’ve not spent the 4th of July with anyone in years.

Alison spent most 4th of Julys with her extended family. Mouse did the same but not even extended family, just immediate family.

And for this 4th and the past one, the boy’s been away.

This year, I wanted it to be different. To this end, I made alla these plans with a pair of pretty hazel eyes except, a few days beforehand, she asked me a question I couldn’t answer.

Her: I wonder if you can make room for someone in your life right now?
Me: What do you mean?
Her: You seem set in your ways.
Me: I think that, for the right person, I could find room.
Her: Yeah. For the right person.

And it made me realize a lotta things – not just about her and me – but about some questions that has been rattling around my head for a while now.

I finally understood what someone was trying to tell me for years. But, I suppose, that’s another entry entirely.

In any case, I didn’t sleep a wink that night. In the morning, I woke up and promptly ruined all of my weekend plans and hurt my own heart.

Still, it was – honestly – the most adult breakup I’ve ever had in my entire life.

Me: … I wanted to be upfront with you about everything.
Her: And I appreciate you being honest with me about all that. All that being the case, I think it’s probably best to just take a bit of a step back from this.

And that was that.

I was gonna just spend the weekend at home drinking but life had other plans for me.

To start with, that night, a female friend invited me to see a concert and then we sat on my stoop afterward to have some wine, something I hadn’t done in decades.

Somehow, we got onto the topic of our respective dating lives and god.

Her: The real spiritual path is a higher calling to true redemption.
Me: OK. I’m vomiting in my mouth right now.
Her: Oh man, you have so many issues.
Me: Refusing to have sex or hating God?
Her: Both.

The next day, I was supposed to go with the Counselor to see Isabel the Singer but things fell through there as well for a whole host of reasons.

Mouse was at the gym and I was tempted to ask her if she wanted to come but that always ends in a gun fight so I decided against it and just went by myself.

It ended up being pretty cool.

Isabel: Thanks so much for coming!
Me: It was great, thanks for having me.

On the way home, way later than normal, got a call from the Acrobat but I’ll keep that part to myself.

The next day – and totally outta the blue – a girl named NC that I’ve not really chatted with in close to a decade hit me up to chat.

After a spell, I invited her to come by Paxibellum because we actually met at my old gym years ago.

Me: Come by my gym and roll!
Her: I can come by on Friday!

She did and we had a pretty fun time. She said she’d try to come by again.

She’s trying to figure out things in her own life as well.

Man, aren’t we all?

Was actually supposed to get dinner with some friends in Chinatown with some other friends I’d not seen since before COVID but that fell through as well.

In truth, that was fine by me. My week was already a lot more social than I wanted after everything went down.

Figured that I’d spend the rest of the weekend alone at home, but life had other plans for me, which I suppose I’ll tell you about later as well.

Location: earlier tonight, the Campbell, thinking of my possible pasts – and possible future
Mood: conflicted
Music: tell me that you miss me – baby, get your ass home (Spotify)
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You would have been proud of me, I think

Some celebratory dinners

We were all pretty hungry after the meet. Some people wanted to eat out in Long Island but I told them that Flushing was a better bet.

I piled into Panda’s whip along with Randi, while everyone else got into their respective rides, and we all headed to Flushing to 1392, a seafood joint.

It was pretty hard getting around with my bum knee but I somehow made it work.

Panda, Randi, and I got there first and we ordered up a ton of seafood.

Everyone else came afterward and we inhaled all the food we ordered.

But the thing is that Panda wanted dumplings so we ended up going to a second place to get that, which was the mall that I usually hit up.

Afterward, Randi wanted a drink so we went to a really cool rooftop bar on the other side of the block. I’d never been.

There were some pretty interesting looking drinks.

Since I was still in diet mode, I got the “low-calorie” cucumber drink option that was good, but not great. You can see it below with the wedge of cucumber.

Ended up getting a second drink later on which I can’t remember but was even better.

The waitressed noticed me hobbling around so I asked her for a bag of ice and she was super sweet and gave me this for my knee.

Me: You’re my second favourite person here!
Her: Who’s the first?
Me: Oh, me. I think I’m just lovely.
Her: (laughs)

This is pretty much how I spent the entire time at the bar.

Afterward, we all split up and Panda drove Randi and me to the Barclays Center so we could grab the 2/3 to head home.

Me: Can someone gimme a lift to a 2/3 train station?
Him: You can take the 7-train right here.
Me: I know that and, normally, I would. But there’s no way I could make it up and down alla those steps for transfers and stuff.

Randi and I were on the train after a bit and we just chatted about the day before I finally hit my stop and made it home.

My housekeeper let herself in earlier in the day so, when I opened the door, it smelled like it used to smell when I was out late working and Alison was home and cleaned.

Me: (to no one) I’m home! I won one match.

I shuffled my way to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of rum.

I think I did pretty ok, I said, to my empty apartment. You woulda been proud of me, I think.

No one answered so I downed my glass and slowly poured myself another.

Location: meeting up with a huge Seinfeld fan out in Astoria for a drink
Mood: happy (enough) but missing the boy terribly
Music: Every time you look my way I can’t even handle myself (Spotify)
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