Month: October 2022

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personal

There will be blood

My psychopath

Me: Dude, you wouldn’t believe the week I’ve been having.
Him: Well, what’s going on?
Me: First of all, I’m covered in blood. Second of al…what the hell?! I GOTTA GO!

Been insanely busy trying to re-secure my digital life and letting almost everything else fall by the wayside.

After the first massive hack attack, I definitely made things a lot safer – this time, I didn’t lose any money (yet), certainly not six-figures like last time.

But I did lose things that I didn’t realize mattered to me as much as they did, particularly my FB account, for reasons I already told you about.

Oddly enough, I was having the most rotten day just before everything went down.

Was literally on the phone with my brother at that moment because I found out some troubling things about…stuff.

So, to take my mind offa things, I started cooking…and massively sliced open my finger while cutting up some chix.

There was blood everywhere. Legit, everywhere.

Once I finally got things under control, I called my brother and was in the middle of telling him the awful luck I’ve been having lately when my phone started exploding with emails.

You see, it seems that when hackers get ahold of your information and want to start draining your financial accounts and also buy stuff from online stores like Amazon and eBay, they first sign you up to thousands – *thousands* of email lists so that you get an avalanche of emails and can’t see warning and order confirmation emails.

Like I always say, I only have the kinda luck no one wants.

Him: For type of access, it had to be someone that knew at least one login credential from your computers.
Me: Yeah. (nodding) I know.

On a slightly less stressful note, prior to alla this, the kid’s been having this one loose tooth that just wouldn’t come out.

For months. I told him for weeks that he had to wiggle it or we’d have to go to the dentist.

Again. For another $800.

Out of frustration, I told him that, if he pulled it out, then I would get him 16 Handles, an ice cream joint south of me.

Dammed if this kid didn’t immediately shove his whole hand into his mouth and furiously start twisting and pulling it like a psychopath.

He managed to yank it out that night.

He pulled it out and proudly showed me as blood came outta his mouth, onto his shirt, and he smiled proudly.

Him: 16 Handles?!
Me: (laughing) A deal’s a deal, kid. Let’s go.

Six weeks I’ve been waiting for this tooth to come out and he gets it out in a day. He asked to buy the doorman next door an ice cream too. Who was I to say no?

He just saved me $790.

Well, he just saved the hackers $790.

Man, I got a lotta things to do…

Location: my dining room table, surrounded by computer parts, equipment, and weapons
Mood: pissed
Music: They all hate me, because of my crime (Spotify)
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personal

What belongs

What doesn’t, and where to put it all.

It’s been a surreal few days. The hives are gone but I’ve been in my head a lot and not sleeping, which started because I found a mouse in my apartment for the first time in three years.

And, in my bedroom, no less.

So, I tore the place apart trying to find out where it came from to plug up the hole. But this meant coming across a lotta old things – physically and metaphysically – that I wasn’t really prepared to deal with.

Mainly, I was looking to figure out what still belongs in my house, what doesn’t, and where to put it all.

In the middle of it all, I got hacked…again.

Lost my FB account that I had ever since Nadi set it up for me years ago.

The most painful thing there is that I used it to manage Alison’s old FB page. I also lost all the messages I had with her and other people that mattered to me.

Been struggling to get on top of all that and my accounts keep getting broken into.

The oddest thing is that there’s a level of malice that wasn’t present the last time around.

This time, they didn’t even try to access my friends account for any type of con, instead, within 10 minutes of them controlling my FB account, they put up stuff so egregious that I was permanently blacklisted.

In 10 mins.

There’s (a lot) more, but I’m still trying to salvage my accounts. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Him: It sounds like someone’s trying to hurt you.
Me: It does. I can only think of two people that have that level of hatred for me.

On another topic entirely, I worked for years with a woman named Tess – so long that I was there when she divorced her first husband and married her second.

We used to speak a few times a week for years but stopped after Alison got sick, and I stopped working.

She rang me out of the blue because she’s going through another divorce and wanted a friendly ear to listen.

Her: How have you been?
Me: Some good days, some bad days. You?
Her: Same.

We spoke for a while, and she told me what was going on with her. A friend of hers had come across Alison’s story on FB back in the day and asked her about me and Alison.

Her: I told her that you used to date a lot but that you spoke differently about Alison. I could tell you loved her right away.
Me: Yeah. I set her apart.
Her: I’m so sorry about what happened to her.
Me: So am I.

Tess said that she was talking to a therapist, and I told her that I thought it was an excellent idea and told her about my own.

Honestly think that everyone should talk to a professional to deal with all the things bouncing around our heads.

Didn’t originally like my therapist all that much, but the past few sessions have been really insightful and really made me think about where I am in my life.

I suppose, just like the stuff in my room, I’m just looking to figure out what belongs in my head, what doesn’t, and where to put it all.

Don’t even know where I belong.

Except with the boy. He’s the only thing keeping me from going starkers right now.

Location: my phone, for days, trying to clear my name and accounts
Mood: rough and close to crazy
Music: mouse inside my brain (Spotify)
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personal

Mexican in Hoboken

What’s the best place?

Headed out to NJ a few times (again) to meet up with people for random reasons. Nothing I want to talk about now.

Well, except for the one time when I met up with my sister-in-law to bring the kid out to a kid’s festival.

Unfortunately, the organizers of it completely flaked, which was new to us. But not to them, evidently.

Worker: They just didn’t show up.
Me: You’re kidding!
Him: Sorry. This happened before.

But at least they put out a pumpkin patch, so all wasn’t lost.

We also ended up going for a walk.

When Alison and I got married, we actually only wanted to have a single party – not wedding – for our friends.

Unfortunately, that morphed into three different parties with three different groups of people.

One of them was for Alison’s extended family, which we did at Amanda’s in Hoboken.

We walked by there that day, and just like when the kid and I walked past the Maritime Hotel, I found my brain back a few years.

Her: We should go.
Me: Yeah…

We ended up walking further down. The kid was in the mood for Mexican so we ended up at a restaurant I’d not been to before.

Him: I want guacamole!
Me: You got it.

My SIL and I ended up having some killer food and some margaritas before we left.

Because my SIL is the kid’s aunt, she does aunt things, like get the boy things I wouldn’t get him.

Like a Magic 8-Ball.

To say this kid was thrilled about this is like saying water’s wet.

We parted ways right after Alison’s old block in Hoboken. I got stuck in my head again for a bit.

But I managed to pull myself out before it got too bad.

Me: Did you have a good time?
Him: Yeah! (looking at Magic 8-Ball) “What’s the best place in New York?”
Me: That’s not how it…
Him: “Ask again later.”
Me: Nevermind.

The day wasn’t what we thought it’d be, but it was still nice.

Kinda like my life in general.

Location: my pad, slicing open my finger, which is less than ideal
Mood: sad
Music: Let me show you how a day in my brain goes (Spotify)
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personal

Normal / Not Normal

Doing the best I can

There’s a joke I love that goes:

A genie appears before a man and says, I’ll give you half-a-million dollars, but only on the condition that the person you hate most in the world gets a million dollars.

And the fella goes, That doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t I want one-and-a-half million dollars?

For the past three weeks or so, I’ve been breaking out into these insane hives every night, to the point I was literally ripping my skin off, cancelling dates, and not leaving my house.

The above pic is me on a good night. My sheets were bloody in the mornings.

It sometimes happened in the daytime as well, but for sure happened at night, for some reason. Without fail.

It, finally, started spreading on my face last week, which was terrifying.

Blamed it on a million things, including a rando date I went on right before things started going south.

[Note to self: Send flowers to said rando.]

But I had a wild talk with my therapist that honestly blew my mind.

Her: You don’t find this interesting? How you’re – right now – dealing with the two things that hurt the last two major women in your life?
Me: What do you mean?
Her: Well, you had a talk with Mouse in your car where you finally – after years of poor communication – understand why she’s so upset with you and you suddenly develop these hives that you’ve never had. And they’re debilitating. Then, that following weekend, you probably suffered a brain injury (concussion). The first one is Mouse’s painful life situation, and the second one is Alison’s – obviously, both to a much lesser degree than each. You’ve been struggling with both ever since.
Me: Wait, do you think I wanted to get tossed onto my head or develop hives?
Her: (shaking head) No, of course not, but it happened. I don’t think you wanted any of this, for them or for you. But, again, it happened. I just find it interesting. Don’t you? (later, gently) You have a relatively recent pattern of trying to save people you care about and failing, and then blaming yourself for that failure.
Me: (laughing) I have a friend that calls me “Captain Save A-Ho.” He means it as a joke but he says he does think I try to help people long after I should stop.
Her: (nodding) You need to be ok with the fact you tried your best. With Alison, with your Dad, with Mouse, you did the best you could with [what life gave all of you].
Me: Life is a non-linear system.
Her: You didn’t give any of their suffering to them. Life gave it to them. And you. Even though none of you deserved any of it.
Me: Oh…I’m sorry…we went over our time.
Her: (shaking head) That’s ok, Logan. (picking up her papers) Be nicer to yourself. You didn’t want any of this, any more than any of them wanted what happened to them. Thank you for today. I’ll see you next week.
Me: (nodding) Thanks, doc. See you next week.

I shit you not, the hives stopped that day. 

Not sure if it was coincidence or what. Slept like a brick for 10 hours and woke up with my skin totally normal and feeling…normal.

Well, as normal as a fella like me gets.

Location: my pad, writing this, sans hives
Mood: normal?
Music: Why do you want me? (Spotify)
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personal

Crashing the party, Pt 2

Making new friends

So, there we are, two-and-a-half hours early to this birthday party and we’re just out at the park next to Chelsea Piers. I feel awful that I screwed the time up so badly for this kid.

Luckily, I had a cream cheese bagel and several oranges with me, so I give him that so at least he’s not hungry.

That killed ten minutes.

Me: Should we go home?
Him: (getting up and walking away) Nah. I’ll make some new friends.

And he does.

He literally crashes another – complete stranger’s – birthday party and becomes the most popular kid there.

This is him in the middle of the party playing with a ball.

Later on, he convinces the birthday boy to climb a tree with him and then the entire party of kids are up in this tree, singing Encanto songs.

He spends the time hanging out with them – and hanging off branches of that tree – and is soon literally leading them around the park with alla these rando ideas he has.

My buddy Steele wrote me…

When it was finally time for the party, I asked the kid…

Me: Do you want to get that kid’s number?
Him: Nah, let’s go to the party.

We do and he has a blast – 42 kids and twice that number of parents were there.

There was a plate of sandwiches there and I ate six of them because I gave the kid all the food earlier.

Him: You’re eating the tuna fish? You don’t think that’s a bad idea?
Me: (shaking head) I trust the system.

Of course, the kid sat next to the birthday girl.

Later on, we head to a much smaller party with just the family. I felt honored we were invited.

Me: Mind if I have a cup of water?
Her: Oh, just help yourself. Cups are there, you know that. You’re family!

Good friends are gold, really.

Me: (leaving late at night) Did you have a fun day?
Him: (sleepily) Yes, papa. Can I go to sleep now?
Me: (nodding)

Long story, but I was chatting with a girl we’ll call the Aerialist, who is different from the Acrobat, I know, my life is very strange – she’s really a builderer but that word just sounds weird.

Her: [This is] the most expensive gin and soda I’ve ever purchased.
Me: Well, now you have to tell me how much.
Her: $21, $25 with tip.
Me: Jesus Christ, did you get a massage with that?

She left today in a rainstorm for a trip to Spain and it got me thinking of when I was last there. A decade ago.

Also thought of the Pretty Cake Decorator for the first time in years. This was one of her favourite songs. Told her we’d take a holiday in Spain one day. We never did.

She married the guy after me; they have two cute kids now. I was happy she found her person.

Everything seems like lifetimes ago.

Suppose it all was.

Location: my pad, cancelling another date because I found a mouse in my house
Mood: still annoyed with these hives
Music: Man, it’s a miracle that she’s not living up in a tree (Spotify)
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personal

Crashing the party, Pt 1

A walk down my memory

The problem I have with dating is that it’s totally binary for me. Either I don’t date – at all – or I have eight dates in a week. There’s no middle ground.

This is not sustainable.

Her: Where were you?
Me: I left after 20 minutes.
Her: You left?! Who does that?
Me: Me. Being, admittedly, very pretty is no excuse for being rude. And pretty girls are a dime-a-dozen. Lose my number, please? Good luck with life.

On a different note entirely, the boy’s a social animal himself.

We’re not the same, he and I.

I taught myself how to be social, never having friends as a kid. My son, though, he’s a complete natural. But lemme back up a bit first…

We start out the day at a picnic at a playground where I catch a shot of the rainbow you see above.

Then we go to my gym for a quick spell, not much to say there.

Not from that day/night but this is a fun pic.

After the gym, he and I head off to another birthday party for the Surgeon’s kid at Chelsea Piers but it’s a gorgeous day, so we walk.

Ended up walking past the Maritime Hotel, which is where Alison and I had our first real date. I wrote about it here.

I met the girl that lost her fella there as well.

Never told you that she was the coke girl. She was 22 then and dealing with the loss of the man she loved, hence the drugs and alcohol. And me in her life.

Don’t think she’s ever recovered from that loss. But that’s her story, not mine.

I get it now, though.

Me: (staring at the Maritime Hotel) I went on a date with the prettiest girl here.
Him: Mommy?
Me: (nodding) Yeah. Mommy.

He wanted to walk along the Highline so we did. The last time I was there, I was with Alison as well.

But, let’s not go down this route. Alison and loss, that is.

In any case, the Highline was packed. We went about three blocks on it before…

Me: There are too many people here and we’re close. Let’s get off this ride?
Him: OK!

Here’s the thing, I totally messed up the time and arrived at Chelsea Piers two-and-a-half-hours early.

Him: Papa!
Me: (apologetically) I know, I know, I know. My memory is swiss cheese these days.

For any other kid, this woulda been a problem, but not my bright-eyed, bushy tailed kid.

But, it’s getting late and I gotta get off this ride.

I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow.

Location: in my head, the Maritime Hotel
Mood: (still) super annoyed by these goddamn hives
Music: They don’t got a pill for this (Spotify)
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personal

A Birthday at Carmine’s

Still crazy

Me: What is that? (pointing at menu)
Waiter: It’s a pina colada…with gin.
Me: God, that sounds disgusting. Is it any good?
Him: I wouldn’t drink it.
Me: OK, how’s about we get me that, but with rum. Like a real American.
Him: Good choice.

The NFL Player had a major birthday recently and invited me and Chad to help celebrate so we went.

It was at a restaurant that’s walking distance in my hood but, in close to 30 years, I never stepped in – Carmine’s on the UWS.

He invited me to bring the kid but it was a school night so Pez grabbed him after an hour.

But not before he ate his fill of cheesy garlic bread…

…regular garlic bread…

…regular bread…

…and pasta.

Me: You can’t just eat carbs all night.
Him: I’m gonna have dessert.
Me: I think you’re not understanding what carbs are, kid.

Seafood was not his thing…

…but it was definitely mine.

Him: (grimacing) What was that?
Me: Calamari. Squid.
Him: That’s a fish!
Me: Technically, not at all, kiddo.

The dessert was enormous – a huge banana split ice cream over cake. And there was another full cake, coconut cake.

I admit that I had some of both. This was not a good week for me, diet-wise, as you’ll soon see.

In any case, after it was all over, took a walk towards my pad with one of the fellas there who’s in charge of a 200-unit condo in the hood.

Him: [Being on the condo board] was exactly as you said, long hours, little pay, and plenty of crazy people.
Me: Yup. I keep hoping to get fired but then my building would explode.

It was nice to be invited out to be a tourist in my own city. Kinda spent the whole week doing things like that but I’ll tell you more about that this week as well.

Her: How’s your head?
Me: Still crazy.
Her: (laughing) No, I meant after getting hit.
Me: (nodding) So did I.

Location: earlier today, running up West End Avenue, telling the kid and his friend to wait for me
Mood: super annoyed by these hives
Music: I ain’t no fool for love songs that whisper in my ears (Spotify)
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personal

I wanna live

Life-changing

We had a Scenic Fights shoot a month ago on 9/11 and Pac had to do a throw. But, like I said, that throw went bad and he essentially dropped me straight down on my head.

Even though I landed directly on to the top of my head, because of the speed he was going at, and the height (maybe three feet off the ground), while it hurt like hell, I was ok enough to get up and finish my scenes.

This past Sunday, because Pez was able to watch the kid, I was able to do another shoot but, in hindsight, maybe it woulda been better if I’d not been able to make it.

First of all, I started getting an outbreak of hives. Think it mighta been a friend’s perfume because I remember my throat tightening when I met up with her.

Her: Are you ok?
Me: (coughing) I’ve not been ok for years now.

It’s been a solid week since then and things are about the same if not worse.

Now have a newfound level of respect and empathy for Mouse, who’s been dealing with this kinda stuff her whole life.

Still, I decided to just suck it up and go. The director had me go buy a mock-turtleneck to hide everything.

But that’s not even why the shoot was awful.

Before everything went to hell. I should wear more purple.

See, Pac was supposed to do this joke throw and, during a practice throw, he fully picked me up, at least five feet off the floor.

He misjudged the angle – and the there was some communication issues between him and the director – and he ended up dropping me on my neck onto the crash pad.

Despite there being three inches of normal padding and six inches of the crash pad, because of the force and angle, I legit thought I was gonna be paralyzed.

Haven’t been that terrified about anything since the kid went to the hospital and, of course, Alison before that.

Screamed out in pain and Pac later told me that the entire room went quiet with mouths agape.

Chad: (later) I remember watching that and thinking, We all just watched a man lose his body right now.

Went completely into my head and, for a terrifying 5-10 seconds, could not feel my feet.

Pac later told me that I was babbling that I couldn’t feel my feet but that I was wiggling them the whole time. In hindsight, he thought that was funny.

Him: Of course, at the time, I was horrified.

It took a solid five minutes or so for me to come to my senses. Pac said he immediately came over and put his hands on my chest and neck to make sure I was alive.

Don’t remember that at all.

The entire shoot paused for a solid 45 minutes – which we never do, as we’re usually racing for 10-14 hours straight with a 30 min break for food – so I could get my bearings.

Was pretty cloudy-headed and in intense pain for the rest of the shoot, although I did burst out laughing once I realized that I wasn’t paralyzed.

Only managed to finish two scenes before I had to head home. The rest of the night was ice packs and ibuprofen.

Don’t recall what I said to Pez at all when I saw her later on that night.

Pac felt awful about it, and everyone checked in on me that night and the next day, which was nice.

It was honestly life-changing. In light of what Mouse said to me earlier the previous week, I gave Pac a ring.

Him: Dude, I felt awful for you but I was also feeling sick that I might have crippled you.
Me: Yeah. (thinking) If anything good came out of this, I remember thinking, “I hope I die instead of being crippled for the rest of my life and be a burden to the kid.” But then I realized also that I really, really didn’t want to die.

Reached out to Gradgirl, in a manner of speaking. She’s not contacted me back, dunno if she ever will.

I’m not even sure it’s her getting my messages because we always communicated via this specialized app. It could be someone else entirely getting them or maybe she’s just deleting them as they come in.

But I hope maybe she’ll read one or two and maybe hate me just a little less.

She was a friend when I needed one and I hope I can be one to her, somehow, someday.

It’s funny, I thought a buncha things lying there – mainly the kid, of course.

Shit, he’s gonna be so fucked up.

In my haze, I also remember thinking, Alison’s gonna be so mad at me if I died and left the kid alone.

But I also thought of Mouse and Gradgirl too. Mainly, that I hoped I wouldn’t die with them hating me.

Him: (laughing) So, all thoughts of suicide are gone?
Me: (nodding) So gone, man. I don’t want to die at all. Was thinking that there’s so much I still want to do. With the kid, with a lotta things.
Him: So, you should be thanking me then.
Me: (laughing) I wouldn’t go that far, Pac…

Location: my gym, hoping I’m ok
Mood: itchy, achy, and annoyed
Music: I’m waking up again and I feel half alive (Spotify)
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personal

Saving the day

More fried fowl

The boy’s class had an outdoor gettogether recently at the park near my pad.

It was nice meeting some of the other parents.

Her: Oh, I’m a lawyer too. Kinda, I don’t really practice.
Me: Sounds like me. Did you go to law school here?
Her: Oh, no. I went to Yale.
Me: (laughing) If I went to Yale, I would have that tattooed on my forehead: “I went to Yale Law School.”

He had a grand time.

There’s something about seeing your kid joyous that’s gives you joy. This is him discovering a fallen branch.

It’s funny that I have to remind myself that everything is new and novel to him.

Also had a Scenic Fights shoot this past Sunday – which definitely deserves its own entry – and my normal babysitter had to bail for reasons I totally understood.

But that meant me scrambling for someone that I trusted to watch the kid while we shot our vids.

Literally called everyone I knew. Unfortunately, no one could make it – that is until Pez came in and saved the day.

Her: Yellow! I was just able to switch my Sunday, so I’ll be able to watch him for ya!
Me: Yes! Thanks!

She’s actually been helping out both with the kid and with the gym, the latter being a project I’ll tell you about later.

But, to figure out the contours of that project, we got some drinks and other legal pharmaceuticals to chat about it.

After a while, we got munchy and started trying to figure out how to get some food into ourselves.

We tried to get some wings at one joint but were thwarted by technology.

Her: Wait, we can only order on our phones.
Me: So, we have to download and install an app just to order food?!
Her: Yup.
Me: Well, that’s annoyingly dumb.

We bailed and just picked up fried fowl across the street and caught up at my pad.

Now I want some more fried fowl…

Location: at an Italian restaurant with Pez, the boy, Chad, and the NFL Player
Mood: fat…sooooo fat…
Music: Believe in me. Believe that life can change (Spotify)
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Not hanging with the jet-set

Living below our means

Recently met up with another buddy of mine for dinner on the Upper East Side. Even though it’s just across the park, it really is like a different world.

He had just got back from vacation.

Me: (walking in the door and looking around)
Him: I thought you got lost.
Me: I figured you’d be late. Man, I barely recognized you with that tan.

We caught up over copious amount of alcohol, vegetables, and protein.

Him: I’m surprised you’re eating the biscuit.
Me: Eh, I just wanted to try it.
Him: Any good?
Me: No.
Him: Then it’s not worth the carbs. Just eat the wings.
Me: Dammit. I hate when you’re right.

It’s actually getting easier and easier to eat relatively lower-carbs out-and-about, I’m finding.

And I’ve been enjoy this whole alcoholic seltzer trend, which are essentially just variations of vodka sodas.

Him: Here, I got another glass, try this.
Me: (trying it) Damn, that’s good.

We chat mainly on text, but it was good to actually see him. I’m friendly with his sister so I was shocked when he told me that she might be declaring bankruptcy.

Me: Wait, what? She makes more than both of us. AND she married rich.
Him: I know. But if you spend more than you make…
Me: Jesus Christ, how much is she spending?!

I’m always surprised by people that live beyond their means. It’s so foreign to me. But, knowing her, I can see her and her husband keeping up with the Joneses. And they like to hang out with the jet-set crowd.

Me: Man, that’s terrible.
Him: She was always like that, you know that. It was bound to catch up with them at some point.

The beauty of the march of time is that it leaves us all as we truly are. Nothing he said was a huge surprise to me.

But I suppose that’s their story and not mine.

We ended up drinking far more than we should have but I was still able to make it home in one piece.

Always a good thing.

Here’s a pretty song, although I think I like this version better.

Location: earlier tonight on W 18th, wondering if I should get to the ER
Mood: injured
Music: I’ve got a heart permanently bound to you (Spotify)
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