Author: Logan Lo

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dating personal

Just because it doesn’t matter to you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.

Madison Park in Summer, NYC

Me: Suppose you’re hiding $1,000 in your shoe. You know it’s there, no one else knows it’s there. Now, how would you – knowing this information – treat that shoe? Now how would I? Just cause it doesn’t matter to you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.
Him: Ah, that makes sense now.

So my presentation went pretty well; they asked me to come on again, which is always a good sign. Been thinking about doing more public speaking at some point soon – just need to find more topics to talk about. You’ll be kept in the loop, as always.

In other news, finally caught up on sleep. It’s been good lately in the sense that when I do have my bouts of insomnia, they’re relatively short – 2-3 days versus 3-8 days. Still, it’s unfun. Would prefer that portion of my life to be gone with entirely.

My newly single buddy dropped by for a spell last night. He’s been out and about as he’s dealing with his awful things. He’s meeting people just randomly and some of them have significant others, who are decidedly not happy about it all.

On this point, he’s not interested in these women and doesn’t understand why these guys’re getting so upset. Told him that the way he saw the world’s really only just his opinion of the world.

———-

Been getting into a lot of arguments with people lately. Find it interesting that there are some people that will continually hammer at the issue at hand; that’s fine – feel I’ve learned a lot from these exchanges and I value knowledge above all else.

There’re others that immediately launch into explicative-filled, ad hominem attacks (“you @#$@$ @#$@#$!”), which only closes me off to their arguments.

Worse, long after they’ve forgotten it, I remember it. That’ll never lead to a good thing.

Speaking of arguments, there’s an accountant for a business I work with that argues with me constantly over everything. She called me and asked me for help. Found this odd cause we’re always yelling at each other. She’s taking the bar exam this summer – she had gone to law school years ago and this was the year. She thought she couldn’t pass it so here I am with this woman that’s caused me nuthin but misery for the past two years. For a second, wanted to tell her that she’d never pass and to go to hell. But that whole grace and mercy thing popped into my head and I took a seat.

Me: (taking a deep breath) OK, here’s what I did to take the bar…

Location: desk, trying to clear the cobwebs
Mood: tired
Music: My peace and quiet was stolen from me When I was looking with calm affection
YASYCTAI: Try arguing the issues rather than attacking the person. (10 mins/1 pt)
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business personal

It’s hard fighting the intertia

Fruit stand in NYC, midtown

Got another lecture to give today, which’s great. The only issue’s that I’ve had three hours of sleep. Never know when my next bout of insomnia comes but it always comes when I’ve got something important to do.

My insomnia’s like a cock-blocking friend at a party; it always shows up at the worst possible time.

Life’s been slowing getting back to normal since returning from Europe last week. After catching up on some work, met a young guy that’s starting a real estate venture. He’s like 27. Also finally saw The Social Network.

There’s something about being younger that let’s you take some crazy chances. Told the guy somea the stuff I used to do when I was younger and he was fairly impressed. But I think about people like Mark Zuckerberg who took these even bigger chances; it’s humbling.

The problem in life’s fighting the inertia, I think. It’s so much easier to just let things be. And as I get older, finding it harder to shake it off and force myself to take these chances.

No time to really think about it now I guess.

I’m on at 10AM…

Location: home, picking out a suit
Mood: tired
Music: wonder how they sleep at night
YASYCTAI: Shake off that inertia. It’s only ever death, man. (time/2 pts)
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business personal

Europe 2011: Day 4 & 5 / The Presentation and Home

My name card

2011.06.10

Wake up and head over to the Île de la Cité again and make it over to the Paris Bar Association. I’m the first one there. Meet up with my fellow speaker and, after some running around, set up.

Most of the speakers are good, but run over time. Two presenters have me riveted – I love my area of the law.

After my presentation, the lead attorney for a major museum stands up and starts yelling at me. She does not approve of how we do things in the US. The problem is that she’s confusing two separate aspects of the law.

Presentation at the Avocats de Paris

After she was done, I politely started to respond when I realize she was busy digging in her purse. Wait for her to finish. The audience roared with laughter without my having said a word.

It was quite possibly the best thing that could have happened to me. At the lunchen afterward, ran outta business cards in about 10 minutes. Alla the French in the audience came up to me to apologize and said that the woman’s behaviour wasn’t representative of the French; the Spanish can up to thank me for the education plus morning entertainment.

This one lawyer told me he wanted to take me out for coffee and did. Super nicea him but I shouldn’t have cause it was 6PM.

La Pointe Saint Eustache in Paris

Cup of coffee at La Pointe Saint Eustache in Paris

Turns out he’s an elder statesman in my particular practice and thought I did a really good job. Def nice to hear.

Afterwards, went to a private event at the Musée du Barreau – it was the House of Lawyers, then a butcher shop for years, then back to the House of Lawyers. Coolest thing was seeing the actual newspaper with the headline, “J’accuse!”

J'accuse headline

Hopped aboard the metro to get back to my hotel and chatted up this beautiful blond right before I went to bed.

Her: Skype is great, this sounds better than when we’re on the phone.
Me: Let me switch on the video.
Her: (seeing me) Ah, there you are.
Me: Do you want me to do an Anthony Weiner? (standing up)
Her: Uh…no.
Didn’t sleep much that night. Dunno what I was thinking, having coffee at 6PM. Stupid delicious Paris coffee.

Logan Lo in a French Hotel

2011.06.11

Wake up and walk to a local bakery to pick up some fresh bread to have with my cuppa joe.

French bakery

Afterward, slip into the Metro to head to the Paris Du Nord where I wait to board the Chunnel train again. This time, there’s no screaming children.

Exiting Kings Cross, had a full Indian lunch; cause what makes more sense before a transatlantic flight than a heavy Indian meal?

Indian lunch near Kings Cross London

Get to Heathrow on the tube, board, and head home. The guy sitting next to me – purely by coincidence – works with my wife and is heading to a conference with her. Small world.

Logan Lo on an airplane

Exiting JFK, tell the driver to take the 59th Street Bridge and not Midtown to get into the city. He asks me to repeat myself and he grunts. Soon, we’re barreling down the LIE and we don’t speak again until we pull up in front of my home. Tossed him a $10 tip, grab my bags and make it to my door.

I’m exhausted and I lost my keys so I ring the doorbell.

She opens the door and smiles. “Logan’s home!” she says and I laugh. I am.

Location: home
Mood: rested
Music: keep my things, they’ve come to take me home
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business personal

Europe 2011: Day 3b / Montmarte, Île de la Cité, Notre Dame, Sacré-Cœur and a gyro

Train approaching the Paris Metro Cité Station

2011.06.09

Walking to my hotel with two large bags was not a good idea as the crowds in Montemarte are just as aggressive in NYC.

Luckily, I’m a New Yorker so I push right back. Get to my hotel, toss my stuff onto the bed and make myself a quick cuppa joe. Man, the French really love their instant coffee.

Cup of coffee overlooking Paris

Today is my only free day here so I grab my camera, Fiona. Again, cause I’m a New Yorker, figure there’s no subway system I can’t deal with. So I head over to the Metro station and pick up a book of ten billets (tickets) and hop onto the Line 4 towards Porte d’Orléans.

Just like in Manhattan, there’re people that stand by the door and no one moves to the middle of the car. People are equally obtuse everywhere.

Get out at the Cité station and stare in awe at the soaring ceilings.

Paris Metro Cité Station stairs

Exit and make my way over to the Notre Dame Cathedral and pop on Rick Steves Historic Paris Walking Tour.

It’s pretty good but I end up skipping a buncha things. When people think of France, this is the part that they think of with the Île de la Cité and the River Seine.

Walk away from the crowds at the cathedral to the Deportation Museum where I’m there by my lonely. It deserves it’s own entry someday so I’ll just leave that be for now.

Make my way to the Latin Quarter, which should really be called the Greek Quarter, and am incited with the allure of gyros.

Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris France

Greek food at the Latin Quarter in Paris France

-intermission-
Her: Wait, you went all the way to Paris and had a gyro?
Me: No…(sigh)…yes.
Her: (shakes head)
-end intermission-

Exiting the Cite metro station in Paris France

Check out where I’m gonna give my speech tomorrow and then head back. On the way to my room, ask the receptionist where I can get postcards to send home. He tells me to walk up to the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur. Shrug my shoulders and I go.

He did not mention how steep that hill was. Bastard. 15 sweaty minutes later, I’m overlooking Paris. Take some pics, buy some cards, and then head back to crash.

Tomorrow I give my presentation.

It’s 10PM and still bright outside. I fall asleep with Parisian sirens wailing in the background.

Paris Metro Station Sign

Logan Lo at the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur in Paris France

Location: yet another European city, yet another cuppa joe
Mood: excited
Music: it’s 2 o’clock in the morning and I’m sittin’ thinkin’, wonderin’
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Categories
personal

Europe 2011: Day 3a / The morning of Logan and the kid trapped in the loo

Logan Lo on the Eurostar to Paris

2011.06.09

It’s 6AM  when I wake up to the sound of my mobile telling me it’s time to go. Grab my stuff and put it all back together again.

Have the free breakfast from the hotel. It’s not good at all but it’s passable and I’m in a rush. Down two hardboiled eggs, some croissants, enough muesli to choke a horse, and cup after cup of god-awful instant coffee. The British really love their instant coffee.

Note to self: eat more muesli.

Hoof it over to the St. Pancras train station where I remove my belt and watch only to put it on again after the checkpoints. Catch the 8:55 train to Gare Du Nord Paris.

Paris Gare du Nord Eurostar station

At first the train’s essentially empty but it turns out that it makes a stop where my car fills with screaming school kids wearing purple shirts from St. Peter’s London Docks and three harried looking women wearing the same, herding them.

From the conversations around me, evidently Lester feels yogurt is too sour, Maneer wants to be a ninja and Alice doesn’t understand today’s music. They are all about 10 years old.

This is the ninth circle of hell.

At the halfway mark, make my way over to the restroom and note that the “occupied” indicator is off. I open the door to lock eyes with a young Indian boy, no more than 7 or 8, with dropped trou. He begins to scream in abject horror – neglecting entirely to pull up his aforementioned dropped knickers. (Are you impressed how I used the word “kinckers” I feel fancy today).

With amazing alacrity, and dexterity, frankly, he kicks the door closed – and I can only assume he fell in the process.

His story does not end here.

Not knowing whether or not I should wait for him to be finished, realize that he has no idea how to open the door now and is effectively trapped in the Eurostar lavatory. He is now screaming in earnest; he’s swinging for the fences, that boy is.

Backing away, from what I am sure will end up with me starting sentences with, “Officer…” I gingerly tap one of the women wearing the purple St. Peter’s London Docks shirts and say, “I believe one of your kids is trapped in the loo.” (Again, note how I used the word “loo.” I could pass for British).

Her: Thank you for getting me – he’s out now but he’s not one of ours.
Me: (looking around at the car of screaming kids) Oh, well I figured I had the odds on my side.

That kid’s scarred for life.

I arrive in Paris with two bags and a headache.

Decide to walk the mile to my hotel to clear my mind. It’s a long day, so I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow, yeah?

Statue against a cloudy Paris sky in France

Globe light fixture at the Cite metro station sign in Paris France

Cite metro station sign in Paris France

Location: another European city, another cuppa joe
Mood: headachy
Music: let’s get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France
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Categories
personal

Europe 2011: Day 2 / And this is where I got coffee and free wifi next

Underground Entrance at Heathrow Airport.

2011.06.08

It’s 6AM there when I wake up. Grab my stuff and put it all back together again.

Dunno if I told you what I bring with me when I travel. Carry everything I can in my laptop bag and a tri-fold garment bag. The usual stuff most people bring when they travel for work: suit, nice paira shoes, extra socks, etc. Like I said, the usual.

Except for the 12″ high-gain 9db 2400~2500 MHz antenna, 2.0 USB extension cable, and external USB 802.11n wireless adapter I carry.

On an unrelated point, still don’t understand why I never got invited to any parties as a child. Suppose some mysteries are never meant to be solved.

12

Anywho, after I check out of the hotel, grab the local bus that loops around the airport. There’re few people on it.

Did I mention that it was hella cold?

Slipped into the Underground, picked up an unlimited day pass, and took it to Leicester Square. It wasn’t even 8AM so there weren’t a lotta places open, let alone with wifi. Ended up at the Patisserie Valerie, which purported to have wifi. Ordered an Eggs Benedict and was gonna take a picture of it but the waitress nixed that idea.

The problem with their wifi was that it was beyond weak. Ergo…

Her: May I ask what that is?
Me: Oh that? Nuthin, just a 12″ high-gain 9db 2400~2500 MHz antenna, 2.0 USB extension cable, and external USB 802.11n wireless adapter.
Her Is it dangerous?
Me: Not unless I drop it and you trip on it. Can I get another coffee?

Did manage to snap one shot of the place.

Patisserie Valerie at Piccadilly Circus

While there, hop onto Skype and contact another hotel to see if could drop off my stuff and head to my meeting. They tell me to come on by so I do.

 

St. Pancras / King's Cross

Check into my hotel off of St. Pancras and get settled in. Have my meeting, which runs over time, of course.

Afterward, have lunch in this local establishment run by, what I can only assume is a good Scottsman, Mr. McDonald, for the free wifi. The wifi, much like the fare, kinda sucks, but this is what one does to be connected..

After lunch, grab the Victoria line to Victoria where I pop on my iphone and listen to this Lonely Planet Audio tour. It’s pretty good. Afterward, end up caught in the rain – which seems to happen all of time in London – and duck into the Waterstone/Costa bookstore for an hour or two where I have more coffee and more free wifi.

Should really entitle all of my travels as, “And this is where I got coffee and free wifi next…”

Big Ben London.

Beat, head back to the hotel and call it a night. Tomorrow, gotta wake up at the cracka dawn to grab the train to Paris.

See y’tomorrow?

The London Eye.

Man on horseback in London.

Dark clouds threatening London.

Location: another cafe, another cuppa joe, London
Mood: fascinated
Music: clouds and dogs and trees, stones and sunlit streets
YASYCTAI: Be bold – and mighty forces will come to your aid. (time/2 pts.)
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Categories
business

Europe 2011: Day 1 / The time where Logan travels to Paris give a speech

There’ll be a lotta posts this week; wanted to give you a heads up.

John F. Kennedy Airport, NY.

Just got back from giving a talk about a narrow aspect of Intellectual Property for the Barcelona, Málaga, and Paris Bar Associations for their Third Annual Art and Law Conference (Séminaire international Art et Droit / Arte y Derecho).

As a rulea thumb, try to keep my professional life separate from this blog but sometimes y’can’t.

For those long-time readers, you’ll remember the last time I went to Europe, it was to Paris, Nantes, Bruges, Rotterdam, Dover, and the Netherlands. This time it was just London and Paris. Here’s what happened if you’re interested:

Automated walkway in JFK, NY.

2011.06.08

Stay over with the rents the night before cause it’s easier to head out to the airport from there plus it gives me an excuse to have dinner with them. Heartgirl’s been to Paris for work a buncha times so I’m going by my lonely.

It’s 05:45 when my eyes pop open on their own.

Her: Morning! I would have woken you up.
Me: (laughing) Morning, mom. I’m always awake.
Her: You should bring a sweater. You might get cold.
Me: (rolling eyes) I won’t be cold. It’s summer.

Have a cup of coffee, a spoonful of peanut butter, and a banana and I’m off.

Two hours later, I’m putting back on on my shoes and belt and heading to gate 5 to catch a 777 to London. Reserved my favourite seat on that particular plane, seat 41G, but spoke to the lady at the desk anyway.

Me: Is there anyone sitting next to me?
Her: (looking) Um…not at the moment.
Me: Heavy load today?
Her: Not particularly.
Me: Now, if I asked really nicely, could we keep it that way somehow?
Her: (laughs) I’ll see what I can do.

Have the row to myself and lay out all my stuff. Work on my presentation and then a story idea. Eight hours later, I’m in Heathrow. Make my way outta customs and step outside.

Hell’s bells, it’s freezing here. Note to self: Listen to your mom.

End up stopping someone to ask how to get to Shuttle Bus H6 and he points it out before saying:

Him: Have y’self a good stay!
Me: Thanks, you too. (pause) Wait, that didn’t make any sense…
Him: S’all right, there. (laughs)

30 minutes later, after I’d checked in and had a nice hot shower, realize that I forgot the UK power adapter I’ve got at home. Dammit. The hotel workman points me to a vending machine that sells it for £7.00. Technology’s grand, isn’t it?

 

Ibis Hotel at Heathrow Airport.

Pass out knowing that my tapped out mac and mobile’ll be waiting for me, charged and ready the next morning.

G’night, citizensa the interwebs. See y’tomorrow?

UK power adapter.

Location: Ibis Hotel Heathrow, London
Mood: exhausted
Music: I can’t explain; go to the corner, I end up in Spain
YASYCTAI: Sometimes, just asking someone nicely works. Not all of time, but most. (1 min/ 1 pt.)
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Categories
personal

Wedding Celebration 4

 

Entering the Parlour Midtown, NY.

Although HG and I wanted to keep our wedding to a minimum, we threw ourselves a little something out in Manhattan at a place called the Par. So we went from having one small thing with just the two of us and her sister, and another small thing with her parents, and another small thing with my parents to four small things.

Her: I’m so glad this is all going to be over soon. We’re so sick of ourselves!
Me: We really are.

Had set this whole thing up months ago cause it’s in the building that RE Mike owns. But when the head chef didn’t respond to repeated emails, finally called the place.

Me: Is Dave around?
Woman from space: He no longer works here
Me: Oooookay, what about the owner John?
Woman from space: He’s no longer with us either.

Insert mild freakout here.

The thing’s that y’can freak out all you want, so long as y’keep it to yourself.

After a lotta phone calls and a mad dash down there several hours before the event, was reassured that all was good. The prior owner and head chef were both nice guys. The new owner and new head chef were also nice guys. Didn’t let HG know about the snafu until long after the entire event was over.

She, my brother, and a group of friends arrived just before the party started and we all had a grand ole time. Beautiful space, killer food, open bar, all of my people, and my person. Even Metrodad made an appearance. What more could a fella ask outta a night?

Party at the Parlour Midtown, NY

My buddy Ricky and Mattman both made toasts and HG and I each made one as well, which got a laugh or two. Afterward, leaned into Heartgirl and told her that I loved her.

No party is ever over with Rain involved until he leans over to me and says, “Man, I’m so ____up.” With that our wedding celebrations ended.

Drunkenness hides no secrets.

What new adventures this week?

 

Location: not where you’d expect.
Mood: busy
Music: here we go! I’m feeling so real
YASYCTAI: Travel for yourself when you can. (days/3 pts)
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Categories
personal

Wedding Celebration 3

Wedding bouquet

Although HG and I wanted to keep our wedding to a minimum, my parents threw us a little something out in Flushing. So we went from having one small thing with just the two of us and her sister, and another small thing with her parents, to three small things.

Dad: Should I make place cards?
Me: I don’t think we need them.
Dad: How do I spell her last name?
Me: OK, you have a pen?
Dad: Yes.
Me: You ready? (pause) Here you go: L…O.

My parents had it on Friday evening out near them so we rented a car. While the weather was beautiful, it took us forever to get there; 90 minutes to travel about 14 miles. That’s the thing about the City – anytime there’s beautiful weather, everyone wants out at once, meaning mad gridlock.

UWS to Flushing, NYC

We actually went to my parents so HG could shower and change. My mother made her a bouquet of roses and gave me a boutonniere. After a flurry of activity, we arrived at the restaurant and got settled in. It was almost all my dad’s friends and relatives since my mom’s family is mostly in another state. One of my best friends, Tommy, came by as well, along with my brother and his girlie, who flew in from Cali.

Most of it was very traditional Chinese wedding fare – we brought the red and white wines, which everyone enjoyed. Suppose that a wedding banquet fulla chili and rum options’d be unseemly.

Crabs on a bed of sticky rice

Wish I took more pictures but I was too busy running around meeting and greeting. A Chinese tradition’s to give out red envelopes with money in it, which I find to be eminently practical. More people should take up that practice.

The thing about weddings’s that it’s a chance to see people you’ve known all your life in a happy setting. Some people I’d not seen in over a decade. Think HG was exhausted with all of the handshakes, hugs, and introductions. When it was over, with bellies full, she and I made our way back to the car.

Her: I’m tired.
Me: (laughing) We went from having nothing to having three things.
Her: And there’s more!

Location: home, prepping for a speech
Mood: busy
Music: Didn’t even know That love was so, so Hey
YASYCTAI: Eat some avocados – they’re apparently very good for you. (5 mins/0.5 pt)
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Categories
personal

Why would you want someone that doesn’t want you?

Diego the plant

Her: What name should I give it?
Me: I like Harold.
Her: No…I think Diego.
Me: Diego…OK. I like it. Diego and Harold.

We’ve bought furniture and a plant together. Suppose there’s no returning to single-hood. Harold, has to get over his jealously; a bit concerned he may start smoking again.

Speakinga singlehood, a buddy of mine’s newly single. Gave him my usual spiel, which boils down to, No matter how hard it is, why would you want someone that doesn’t want you?

He got his walking papers in  fairly harsh way: she kicked him out. And for no other reason than talking with a female friend he’s known for 13 years. Told him to take the high road.

Him: And what’s that?
Me: Leave. And don’t build her up like she was a saint or rip her down like she was a monster. Just leave. If a woman tells you to leave, you get up, pack your bags, and walk out the door. Cut it deep, cut it clean, but cut it.
Him: I’m super busy today, I can’t just pack up and leave.
Me: Cut it quick, cut it deep, cut it clean, but cut it. And don’t try to read her mind like some rapist and say, “Well she really meant…” You can’t assume anything is true but the words that come out of her mouth, which was, “Move out.”
Him: Damn, I guess I’ll have to look for a place.

He moved out that night.

He’s erasing his map – in stark contrast to our other buddy who floated back and forth with his girl for a year. That girl actually ended up marrying the guy she cheated on him for a year and that friend just caused a solid year of pain for himself. This friend, however, sees the writing on wall.

Speakinga seeing the writing on the wall, recently had two clients hand me checks in very different ways.

One paid me a bonus for a job well done; the other paid me 50% of what was agreed upon. Not to get all schoolyard but a deal’s a deal. If I’ve ever learned anything from working for myself for 18 years, when a client hands you a check, you smile, take it, and make a mental note.

It’s all related, y’know? Why stay where you’re not wanted? Anyone that tells you, Move out, doesn’t want you.

Any client that pays you 50% of what you agreed upon doesn’t want or respect you.

Any client that pays you more than you asked does.

Even if you don’t like what you hear, people are telling you stuff all of time.

 

Location: Sitting in my living room, wide awake at 4AM
Mood: hungry!
Music: you open up the dirty windows, let the sun illuminate
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