Author: Logan Lo

Categories
personal

So here’s what I remember

Location: 20:00 yest., eating another piece of sushi in Queens
Mood: burp
Music: I’m tearing at the seams. You on the other hand

Wedding flowers

Don’t wanna go out for my birthday but Paul insists. He, Hazel and WM take me out for some killer Indian food. Afterward, Paul and Hazel pick up a bottle of rum and we kill it on a balcony overlooking Broadway in the Village. Paul even picked up a cake.

Me: Have I thanked you enough for this?
Paul: Yeah…no prob, as long as you had a good one for a change. Everyone needs a good birthday.
Me: Well, my birthdays are usually pretty good – it’s just that the other 364 days leave much to be desired.

Stupid friends won’t even let a guy be depressed on his birthday.

Birthday with rum

Saturday, dash off to Brooklyn for something and rush home to make a wedding for a buddy I’ve not seen in years. The most beautiful woman in the room spies me walking in and takes my hand.

Her: (beaming) You came! I keep talking about you. (takes me by the hand and pulls me in front of a table of strangers) Everyone – this is my son.
Everyone (in unison): Hello!
Me: (laughing) Hi.

My world’s a small place. Alla my guy friends are comparing their ueber expensive automatic watches. Sold mine to pay for for law school stuff. Miss my Seamaster the most.

But don’t have time to be sad. Dash off to see my buddy El for her housewarming. Rain and the gang’re there including Tess (who’s in Kings, should it not get canceled) and Eve. We all go up to the roof, which is dark. But not in a cool way, more in a pitch black kinda way.

Eve: This is sorta nice.
Me: Yeah, if you’re a rapist.

Rape-y becomes the word of the night .
NYC rooftop

While there, get a call from a girl Shin I’ve not seen in 15 years telling me she’s in town. She’s a professor now. Crazy. So we meet up and soon, about eight of us are in a karaoke bar downtown where people are butchering Phil Collins.

My brother’s best friend is there with her 18 year old sister who delights in the fact that I’m, quite literally, twice her age now. She puts a note in front of me that makes me laugh. But it’s almost 3AM and Shin’s boyfriend turns out to be a drunk douche so I bounce before I can deck him.

Logan's old

Yesterday, I see Heartgirl. We go out and she has a glass of wine and listens to my stories. I like her more than anything. Even rum.

Today, have dinner with the family at an all-you-can eat buffet.

Sister: Why are you sitting like that?
Me: So I can get a better view of the sushi chef. You have to plan these things.

Thanks for the birthday wishes, they meant a lot to me. Really. Every writer likes knowing that someone, somewhere’s reading them.

YASYCTAI: Have you called your mother? (10 mins/2 pts)

Categories
personal

Logan’s 36/Say Anything

Location: noon, yest, midtown
Mood: stressed
Music: don’t know if our fate’s already sealed

Airplane Window at sunset

Two observations: (1) Got no fewer than four friends with relationships on the rocks; (2) I always get hit on more in the spring.

Think they’re related: it’s spring cleaning. People wanna be out and about maybe, capitalize on the weather, see what else’s out there.

As for Heartgirl and me, well, last weekend was just perfect. And we both know that perfect and I don’t work well together; she’s still tired of hearing me talk. But I’d like to see how our story goes.

There was a time when bad things happened to you, you put on a black mourning jacket as a quiet testament to your sorrow. Nowadays, it’s a lotta status updates, vitriol and poor grammar.

That’s why I try to sort things out before I write about them. Waited almost a month before I told you about the theft. And three months after my initial breakup to tell you about it. Need time to make sure something’s actually something and not a whole lotta nuthin. Wonder if I can still tell the diff.

Everyone’s got a place where they go to sort things out. King Midas had his reeds. Lloyd Dobler had his friends.

Me? I keep thinking that I’d like to go elsewhere, and still not necessarily somewhere and tell them my story. Cause who’d believe it? But since I can’t, suppose I got this here blog. Write it for me more than anyone.

But it’s my birthday and I get to make a request, yeah? I don’t ask for much, don’t think: world peace, some soup from time-to-time, the occasional call…

My request is this: who’s still reading? Yeah, I’ve got my stalwart group of people that comment and drop by with regularity (thanks guys) but I’m curious if it’s just them.

In my head, I imagine there’re people that never comment yet read me regardless.

So, just like last year and the time before: wish me a happy birthday and say something, all of you bastards that read me but never say anything.

Logan Lo

YASYCTAI: Comment. (5 mins/0.5 pts)

Categories
personal

Eject, eject, eject

Location: 14:00, yest. spitting in Queens
Mood: pained
Music: and who needs love when there’s southern comfort?


Her: So the first and second molds didn’t come through. (pause) So we have to do it again. You’re very brave to do it without anesthesia.
Me: (sighing in dentist’s chair) Nvave, oke. Evexpensivecmup.
Her: (removing tube) What?
Me: Not brave, broke. I’ve expenses coming up. Do it. Don’t mind me if I cry a bit.

Y’know how I always say that your friends’re mirrors to yourself? They’re also the thermostats to your mental health.

They’re the ones that pull you back and go, “Dude, what are you doing?” It’s why nutcases like Ted Kaczynski live by themselves in the woods.

The running joke between my friends and me’s that I beergoggle. They always whisper into my ear, “Eject, eject, eject.” And I always go, “Really?” shrug and bolt. Figure that I’m about 27.3% rum most weekends (by volume, not weight) so I should listen to them.

With mobile phone photography technology being what it is, they’re right more often than not.

Not all my friends eject when we tell them to, though, which is another running joke.

Another thing I believe’s that if three of your friends tell you something, unsolicited, it’s probably true. Like if three friends tell you that you’re acting like a jerk, chances are high, you’re acting like a jerk.

A buddy of mine’s all bent outta shape about a girlie that we all roundly believe isn’t worth his time. And yet he keeps trying. He insists that this is different, that she’s different. But we both know she’s not. It’s not.

He just needs time to sober up to see it. No worries. I’ll be sure to mock him once he comes up for air. It’s what friends do.

———-

Don’t wish me a Happy Birthday just yet. One more post tomorrow.

YASYCTAI: Get dental. Dental is totally worth it (60 mins/1 pts)

Categories
personal

Easter 2009

Location: four hours ago, my couch eating cold cereal
Mood: potentially sick
Music: I like me so much better when you’re naked

Intercontinental-Barclay Hotel

My birthday’s this weekend but I’ve got more weddings to go to. Wedding season has begun again. So Heartgirl gave me my gift early.

LOGAN’S BIRTHDAY WEEKEND SCHEDULE OF EVENTS – APRIL 11-12 2009

Saturday, April 11, 2009

10:00 – Casa Heartgirl
Breakfast by Heartgirl. I make the pancakes.
She gives me presents: a good chef’s knife and a bowl – cause it’s about time, I guess.

13:00 – Intercontinental-Barclay Hotel
Check in and have people call me, sir and Mr. Heartgirl.
Walking distance to the joint that Leona Helmsley sued me over.
Long story, I’ll tell you about it someday (maybe).

14:00 – International Centre of Photography
Get rained out so we just relax at the hotel.

18:00 – Smith & Wollensky’s
Order the fillet migion with Roquefort, she has the trout.
Dessert is a coconut cake with vanilla ice cream.
Note to self: Work out.

21:00 – Photography around Midtown East

NYC Easter Hats

Sunday, April 12, 2009

11:00 – Breakfast at the Intercontinental-Barclay Hotel
$65 for ok eggs benedict and coffee. Breakfast at Casa Heartgirl was better.

12:00 – Easter along 5th Avenue
Evidently, during Easter, people put on all sortsa funny hats and parade about on 5th Avenue.
35 years and I did not know this.

13:00 – Crash other Expensive Hotels
Heartgirl poses in front of a chocolate sculpture when a douche reaches over.
just rips a piece of it right off and stuffs it into his pocket.

14:00 – West Branch
Order the cuban sandwich with fresh chips, she has salmon and a salad.
Note to self: Really you fat bastard, work out.
You’re gonna be 36 soon.

17:00 – Church
Ask for more days like these, if at all possible.
Heartgirl catches me planning out a recipe during the sermon.

Smith & Wollensky's

Today, spent the day running around looking for coin to pay my dentist and accountant, waiting in line at the bank, and trying to straighten out some mobile issues.

Days like the past weekend help me get through the rest of them.

Intercontinental-Barclay Hotel

YASYCTAI: Plan a nice getaway, even if it’s only in your head. Hopeful is good. (60 mins/1 pt)

Categories
personal

God the Car Salesman

Location: a green couch she hates
Mood: optimistic
Music: Hey, he said, grab your things, I’ve come to take you home.


Her: How can you believe in a religion where some people are saved and others aren’t?
Me: I don’t make the rules, I just try to follow them.
Her: What about girls that are raped and killed for just being? And children murdered for being children, where’s your god then?

It’s hard being a Christian in the big city. People look at you like you’re nuts. They expect me to be or act a certain way. A weird form of reverse prejudice.

I doubt my religion all of the time. But I doubt it hoping, really hard, that it might be true. S’ok to doubt, I think. Everyone does it. Abraham, Mary, Thomas.

A girlie I dated once called religion: a nice fairy tale. But fairy tales, and most religions, tell you that if you’re a good guy, you’ll do fine. Like god is some sorta used car salesman you gotta bargain with just right to get the best deal.

Unless I’m reading it totally wrong, what I believe seems to say that if you’re a good guy, you still get screwed. In fact, the gooder you are, the harder you get screwed. Consider:

  • John the Babtist did everything right and got beheaded.
  • Job did everything right and lost everything, everyone.
  • Peter, the head of the first church, was crucified upside down.
  • Mary, essentially a 16 year old kid, is a virgin and gets knocked-up only to live to see her son get killed as a criminal (I sorta feel she got screwed the most).
  • Joseph finds out that his first born son isn’t his either.
  • Jesus did everything right and gets nailed to two planks of wood.

So what’s the point of even trying then? I dunno. I also don’t know the answer the questions above. I’m not a theologian. Not anything, really.

But maybe we should go do good, not cause there’s a reward for our work in the end, but a debt we owe for our chances in the beginning. We owe it to the aether.

Her: I don’t think I need god. I’m a moral person.
Me: But we’re still just people and people fail all the time. I wanna believe in something bigger than my own imagination. Something bigger than my own strength of will.

What the human heart, if afforded one wish, truly wants is a do-over. A chance to get those chances again.

Spring, Easter, it’s all about rebirth. S’why we got all the pansy coloured egges. All about the do-over. My year always starts in Fall, yeah. But something about Spring, makes me hopeful.

Happy Easter for those of you that read the same book as me. For those that don’t, hope the sun is sunny where you are, you’ve got someone hot to make out with, and there’s something grand on cable for you to watch.

Actually, if you read the same book as me, I wish you the last three also.

YASYCTAI: List the good things you’ve got. (60 mins/2 pts)

Categories
personal

Once I get better

Location: 1hr ago, in front of a mailbox on Broadway
Mood: indescribable
Music: a hustle here and a hustle there

A club scene in NYC

Him: Come out with me – open bar, girls too young for us. The usual. You in?

Me: I’m in.

Think Heartgirl’s tired of hearing me talk about my life so I’ve been trying to talk to her less. Guess I don’t blame her, got a lot on my mind. So, RE Mike invited me out to the premier of Peter & Vandy where we chatted up some folk and a tall drink of water bought me a tall drink of rum.

But I swung by Paul’s new pad first where he was unpacking.

Him: Look what I found (pulls out a stack of papers) it’s all the numbers I got last year.
Me: Ah, I tossed mine a long time ago.
Him: (shakes head) Dude – you never do that. Not until you’re married. Even then…
Me: Nah, if you gotta, y’just get more.
Him: Suppose. Just wanna meet someone that thinks I’m awesome, y’know? I’m weary soldier.

Me: Aren’t we all?

Brooklyn Bridge at night

The next day, met up with Heartgirl for onea my oldest buddy’s wedding in Brooklyn. Heartgirl and I then got lit together and stumbled across the Brooklyn Bridge to Manhattan. Told her I lived here my whole life and never walked across it before. It’s true.

Her shoes kept getting stuck in the walkway and we couldn’t help but laugh.

Heartgirl getting her shoe stuck on the Brooklyn Bridge.

Life’s been stressful lately. Can’t keep taking the disappointments.

But the flip side’s the unexpected kindness, the grace I’m always talking about. Like old friends that make an appearance.

My friend Steel, his real name, stopped by and dropped off a rack of prime rib and some fillet mignion cause he heard I wasn’t doing so hot. And Bryson called me up to tell me he’s gonna be a pop.

And the last little bit I got tonight. Closing an office isn’t just shutting the doors and kicking everyone to the curb. There’s a lotta shredding involved. A lot of it. Was up at 4AM and it was 10PM in front of my shredder when my wrestling coach calls me.

Him: You’re doing well. I think maybe you can hold your own once you get better.

It made the hour commute home not so sucktastic. Cause, in some way, that’s what everyone’s been saying, that maybe I can hold my own once I get better.

Her (not Heartgirl): Are there lights on the Brooklyn Bridge at night?
Me: No, but if you get wet, you’ve gone the wrong way.

YASYCTAI: Take a walk on a bridge at night. If you get wet, you’ve gone the wrong way. (10 mins/1 pt)

Categories
personal

Mrs. Reynolds, Johnny Handsome, and Psalm 33:10

Location: 4 hours ago, getting caught in the rain
Mood: depressed
Music: Now up and at em it’s on, I was raised to be strong

A church in downtown NYC.

Me: Hello, you don’t remember me, but I was in your French class in seventh grade. My name’s Logan…

Ran into her last year grabbing a bite to eat near the rents. She was in a shop trying to get an old pair of glasses fixed. Pulled out this beat up purse and dug through for $20 to pay the guy.

She was laid off years ago. No one wanted to learn French anymore. The only reason I did was because of pretty girlie named Yvey in her class. But I digress.

She didn’t have $20 and they didn’t take Amex, which is all I had. So she put her glasses, held together with tape, back on her face.

———-

Me: I did terribly in French. You told me after the year was over that I was just one of those people that would never be good at languages.
Her: Did I? I’m sorry, that was mean.
Me: (laughing) Don’t be. Because of what you said, I taught myself three languages. One I still sorta remember. (gently) Y’made me try to be better than I was. You were a good teacher. And you were nice to me – not many people were back then.

Her: (quietly) Thank you. I wish they’d let me teach again.

———-

Had an awful day today and thought of the above cause here’s what I was thinking that day: I used to have coin. And now I didn’t even have a lousy 20 bucks to help out this little old lady.

My birthday’s coming up. Never woulda imagined I’d be where I am at 35. Want so bad to be better than I was. Maybe it’s not in the cards.

Me: It’s me. That gig still open?
Him: Logan? Nah, man. But someone always needs a favour, yeah? So…y’back?
Me: Yeah.

Don’t worry. Not gonna whine. Just lemme say that it sucks when you realize that the saying’s totally true: Men plan; God laughs.

And the Devil? He’s always waits.

YASYCTAI: Watch Johnny Handsome. Cause sometimes, they’ll never let you any better than you are. (90 mins/1 pt)

Categories
dating personal

Did you know?

Location: two hours ago, leaving the office
Mood: drained
Music: right here, right now

Went on a day trip recently with Heartgirl to a place out in the burbs. I’d gotten up in the middle of the night per my usual insomnia and made a racket looking for the bathroom door.

Me: (silence)
Her: (silence)
Me: I think I’m in the closet.
Her: (wakes up laughing) I can’t…breathe…(laughs harder) I thought…I was dreaming that…

Another three feet in, pretty sure I’d be somewhere in Narnia telling Mr. Tumnus that I was just looking for the bathroom.

———-

My friends think I’m a bit paranoid cause I tape up my notebook’s camera in case someone puts in a trojan that let’s people video me. It’s very true.

———-

Me: …the usual. What’s shaking with you? How was your weekend? And can I borrow $24,938? Answer the third question first.
Her: I have $13 and a lot of couch-cushion change. Does that help?

Been chatting with my friend KC and it seems that one outta eight marriages last year came from online dating. The way I see it, it’s like you got a friend named Match or whatnot that says, “Hey, I’ve got a girlie you might like.”It’s just another medium to meet someone. Onea Heartgirl’s friends and I also got into a similar conversation about dating over the weekend.

Her: Where do I go to meet someone that I’ll actually like?
Me: We live in NYC – there’re all over the place.
Her: The guys I want to talk to me, don’t. And the guys I don’t, do.
Me: You should talk to the guys you wanna talk to. Cause people’re lonlier than you might think.

S’funny. She too wondered if I spent all my time watching The Pickup Artist. The pickup is actually more a question of guts than anything else, IMHO. My feeling is that, if you’re a dude and just a little less broken, a little more sober, and just slightly more interesting than the dudes around you, you’ll be fine.

To be more sober, drink more water. To be slightly more interesting, say the first thing that pops into you head all of time.* As for not being broken, now that’s hard…

*Note, this does not work if you’re an idiot or if you’re a douche – consider faking being smart and non-douchey.

YASYCTAI: Take an improv class already. At the worst, you’ll have fun. At the best, you’ll be faster on your feet. (6 weeks/2 pts)

Categories
personal

10,000 Outliers

I’m free

The moon against the blue sky in New York City

As I said, just finished reading Outliers. One very interesting point is that to be truly, truly skilled at something, you have to do something for 10,000 hours. Not cause someone makes you, but cause you wanna. 20 hours a week, say 50 weeks in a year, that’s about ten years.

Started this blog for a number of reasons. Onea which is to just write every day for public consumption. Cause when you write for public consumption, your writing’s gotta to be better. Least it should be (see: Twitter/Facebook).

Not saying my writing is actually good but it’s the process. Been distracted from the process for the past year or so cause of the theft and my business. But now maybe I’m back on track.

Me: I’m calling to say, Thank you. For letting me out of the lease. I’m just curious as to why you did. Last time, had to go to court and it was painful.
Him: (shrugging) Figured that with the market being like it is, you’d call me eventually. But you could have withheld rent or whatever, but you didn’t. And you always kept your word – you don’t know how many people tell me the check’s in the mail and it never is. Your checks were. (pause) Plus I know about what happened to you. You deserved better than having that bitch screw you. So…I’m cutting you a break.
Me: (nodding) Thanks. I do appreciate it.
Him: No problem, Logan. I’ll send some business your way when I can. You’re a good guy. (holds out his hand) Good luck.

I’m finally out. I’m free. Took me less than the 36 months I thought it would. Broke, but free.

Deep breath. 10,000 hours. I’ll be 46. OK, I’m game…

———-

…and I finished my thesis…

…and I has new toof.

Location: 15:00 yest, a law firm off Grand Central
Mood: quixotic
Music: Heartgirl singing in Spanish

Categories
personal

Taking the Fall

Location: 12 hours ago, getting choked on 27th
Mood: bruised
Music: Maybe the only choice we’ve ever got is how to take the fall

Chinatown in NYC

My weekend started off just terrible but it improved greatly.

Said it so many times before, all of life’s problems can be divided up into health, wealth and relationships. Y’just need one of those to be off-kilter to be bent outta shape. Well, my weekend started with all three undone. Guess all three had to do with disappointments.

What do you think is worse? Hoping and being disappointed or never hoping at all? I always go back and forth on that one.

But saw my blue sky and my girl so it got better. Plus baked a pan of lasagna and how bad can life really be with a fresh, hot pan of lasagna?

This week, gonna be 1/3 of the way through to getting my mouth repaired. And I’m trying to land this client. So maybe I can get the other two straightened out.

Even if I don’t, suppose the trying is worth something. Heartgirl doesn’t think I’m optimistic but I think I am. I’m, thankfully, stupid like that.

Me: Hey, let’s look at apartments we can’t afford.
Her: It’s always good to dash dreams on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

Me: So we’re in agreement then.

A pan of homemade lasagna

YASYCTAI: See some open houses this weekend. Just cause it’s nice to dream. (120 mins/1 pts)