Category: personal

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personal

Uncool me

A few weeks back:

Her: Wait, you only have one bowl?
Me: (shrugging) I only have one me.

I don’t have an iPod – don’t have an “i” anything, in fact. Someday maybe, not now.

Almost all my music, DVDs, books, papers, works, I’ve digitized and put into a computer I built myself. I watch it all through either a TV I bought seven years ago or a projector I use for business.

Got a lotta Valentino shirts and about eight custom-made suits but I bought ’em all at least a decade ago when I was young and stupid. Tee-shirts and Levi jeans for me.

Drama notwithstanding, I spend coin on:

I’m lucky because I’ve never been cool and I’m WAY too old to start now. Plus, I have zero need to impress anyone.

Where do you think the happiest place on earth is? It’s here. Not what you expect, huh? Happiness comes from community and purpose. Stuff cannot make you happy. Don’t be fooled by ad execs (I was one) – there’s no pill, shirt, shoes, phone, that will make you happy.

Working jobs you hate, to buy crap you don’t need, to impress those you don’t know – that’s just !#@$ nuts.

Connecting, man, that’s where it’s at. Ah, but there’s the rub. Another person cannot make you happy. But losing them can make you all sortsa bent outta shape.

Connecting. It’s harder than one might imagine:

Her: Can you not call me?
Me: Tonight or ever?
Her: (pause) Ever. ()
Me: (pause) Well…that sounds about right. (sighing, putting down phone and turning to fish) Yes George, I know it’s nonea my business. But still…

Location: my blue couch
Mood: throughly confused
Music: I think she’s leaving Ooh man she’s leaving

Categories
personal

Who pays the price?

Me: If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were happy couple.
Her: (long pause) We were.

Thanks for all the well-wishes; got me through a rough day. Worked until 1AM on my birthday. S’ok cause I did a lot of living this past weekend.

SX came up from Philly to see me and I showed her my city.

Saturday night we hit up a party that my friends Paolo and Cindy threw for me. Do you remember that last scene from It’s a Wonderful Life where Geroge can’t believe all the people that came out for him? Sorta how I felt.

On Sunday, SX and I grab brunch around the way. Then she gets ready to go. It’s terribly sad. Terribly. My self-sabotaging’s pretty much train on time.

Ok then.

Her: It’s funny, I feel like we’re breaking up and we were never together. Who knew I’d find a 35 year-old womanizer appealing? (pause) I like you, Logan.
Me: I like you too.
Her: (pause) Will you write about me?
Me: I like to keep some of my private life private. (pause) Do you want me to?
Her: (long pause) Yes. I want you to write about this weekend.

This weekend I had a beautiful girl come visit me for my birthday and we had an absolutely amazing time. But I discovered that I’m a lousy womanizer. Cause Paul and I stick to two rules:

  1. Never lie.
  2. Always leave people better off having met you.

Causea rule one, I never know if somea these people that cross my Venn Diagram’ll cross them again. Causea rule two, I tell SX that she should be with that other guy because he can be there for her and I can’t – then again, I’m no one’s careful consideration.

I sighed this past weekend and SX asked me what I was thinking. I just smiled and shrugged.

But what I was thinking was that, My head knows I’m doing the right thing but it’s never my head that pays the price.

She picked up her bag, shut the door, and walked away.

And here I am again.

Location: 22:23, 57th and 8th Avenue
Mood: alone
Music: There’s a somebody I’m longing to see

Categories
personal

Logan’s 35

The lies you tell yourself

I submit that your misery is the sum of the lies you tell yourself:

  • I’m not good at languages, that’s why I don’t learn Italian.
  • I need a drink to talk to her.
  • I’m too old to start something like that.

My favorite: I’m not that type of guy/gal.

That’s the stupidest one of all. Following that logic: I’m not the type of guy that drives because I’ve never driven before.

It’s all horse___, you know? The lies you tell yourself. It’s all horse____.

Put another way: you’re not the person you know you could be, causa the lies you tell yourself.

I’m pensive. Turning 35 today. Halfway to getting my ticket punched, and still waiting for my real life to begin. Been thinking, maybe it begins when you stop lying to yourself. When you take that nasty truth, bite into it and swallow. Then go in for seconds.

Wish I did it a lot earlier myself. Then again, wish I bought Google at 300 bucks, kissed Stella in 9th grade, and didn’t have my life’s savings stolen. But whaddya gonna do?

A pretty lady from a sun-kissed beach just dropped me a line and another pretty lady’s heading my way for a spell. Plus there’s the weekend. Hoping for some awesome to head my way.

Some awesome, and maybe another whole wheat donut, would be nice.

Now…wish me a happy birthday, all of you bastards that read me and never say anything.

Location: 13:00 yest, Harlem
Mood: excited
Music: Coming outta my cage and I’ve been doing just fine

Categories
dating personal

Monday Always Comes a Day Too Soon

Location: all over the damn place
Mood: confused
Music: risk all this for just a kiss I promise I will not resist

Friday night, Sheridan invites me another one of his high-society parties and Gio invites me to a club; woulda been floated into both but I need some downtime.

Using a broken chopstick and four rubber-bands, spend the night mounting a 2.5″ HD into a 3.5″ bay in my DVR. Used to spend a lotta Fridays like that. No lie.

Saturday night, hit up a girlie’s party in Jersey. Met someone whom I may have kissed over New Year’s, but I don’t think so. Then again, been wrong before. An hour into it, get a call from SX. She’s in Jersey too.

Her: Let’s meet up half-way.

Me: (thinking) OK, I’m game.

We end up at a diner just east of no-freaking-where. Her blond hair falls into her eyes when she walks in, laughs and says, This is crazy. I smile and nod. In one of our conversations, I tell her that I occasionally kiss the women I meet.

Her: You’re a tongue-whore.

Me: Do people say that?

It’s almost 5AM when we call it a night. Sunday, wake up, do my situps and clean up my train-wreck of a pad. Meet up with a Hazel-Eyed Italian for caramels who lives around the way with an easy laugh. She asks about my dating life so I take a deep breath and tell her.

Her: Oh…you’re a tongue-slut.

Me: Wow, people really do say that. And I prefer whore, thank you.

We walk around the big city for a bit. Pointing at some violets, she says that she never sees enough of them here. I smile in agreement before she slips underground and I dash off to church.

I slide into a pew and sit by my lonesome in the back. Find myself staring just a little too long at the smug couples around me. I excuse myself, go to the restroom and wash my face for no particular reason. Then trudge up the steps to sit alone again.

Monday always comes a day too soon, yeah?

Categories
personal

Still on your side

Got some win so I bought a donut. True, it was a whole wheat donut but a donut nonetheless.

———-

My ex and I spoke the other day. She’s moving from the NY Times to onea the other NYC papers. Just as well, it’s weird opening up the Saturday paper and seeing, not just her stuff but two of the three men she saw after (and during) me.

Never blamed her for leaving me – I was a lout. Just had a problem with how she did it. Then again, thought she was great but I never showed her, so really, who’s fault was it? Which brings me to a conversation I had yesterday with someone else entirely.

Her: You’re mean.
Me: What if you knew I was always on your side?
Her: What do you mean, on my side?
Me: When I was a little kid, my mom brought me to the doctor for a shot. She lied to me to get me there. I was furious. Thought I hated her and told her as much. Made her cry. Thing is, (a) she knew info I didn’t know and (b) she was on my side – meaning, she was looking out for my best interest, even though I didn’t know it. What if the two were true for me to you; would that change what you think about what I do and say? Don’t answer, just a random thought.

Question for you: Does the person you’re with cut you slack or pounce on every screwup, real or imagined? In other words, is the person you’re with on your side? Harder question, are you on theirs?

Just a random thought.

Wonder what mischief I can get myself into this weekend?

Location: 20:00 yest, dinner with the family
Mood: fat ‘n content
Music: My yesterdays are all boxed up and neatly put away

Categories
personal

More Spring

Location: in my jammies, working from home
Mood: hopeful
Music: It’s alright, baby’s coming back (make it easy on yourself)

Her: How can I help you?

Me: What’s the biggest burger you have?

Her: Um…I guess the triple Whopper with cheese.

Me: Huh. Can you add another patty on and I’ll pay for that?

Her: You want a quadruple whopper? We don’t…I don’t have a button for that. I could charge you for another Whopper and you could stack that on top.

Me: Well that’s just silly. The triple Whopper is $5 and the regular is $3:50. How about this, why don’t you throw on two chicken patties and I’ll pay for that.

Her: OK, so you want a Triple Whopper with Cheese and two Chicken sandwiches but just the meat stuffed into the Triple Whopper.

Me: Yes…and a diet coke.

Her: (bursts out laughing) I take it you didn’t have breakfast.

Me: Oh no, I did. (pause) Why?

My birthday’s coming up. You should all chip in and buy me a defibrillator.

On a positive note, may be close to settling with the IRS. Still need to come up with some coin but nothing near the $25,674 they initially said. Wanna see it in writing before I’ll believe it.

Could use some win.

Getting hit on a lot again – don’t think it’s so much me as because it’s spring. If not for spring, I think there’d be a lot more single people in the big city.

Categories
personal

He keeps calling

Met a girl tonight and told her we were like ships in the night

Met up with some friends for a Spring party. There was a girlie there from Guest House a few months back. My friend was gaming her but I could tell she was vibing me so I discreetly bounced – girlies come and go, good friends are harder to find. He’s now with someone else so fast forward to this past weekend.

Her: You’re leaving? Again? What’re you, a viejo?
Me: (kissing her cheek) Very much, pretty lady. Very much.

Was leaving cause I was thinking of ringing SX when I ran into a pair of green eyes.

Her: Alison.
Me: Logan. (shaking her hand) Well look at us – we’re like ships in the night; you’re stepping in, I’m stepping out. We’d have lovely children, you and I, what with my looks and your brains. They’d be a shoe-in for the ivy league.
Her: What? (laughing) Then stay.
Me: Can’t. Got an appointment to keep. But New York’s a small town – ships in the night, yeah?
Her: Yeah.

Walking to the subway, flicked on my mobile and dialed a number. I’m sleeping, she said, but we talked until dawn anyway.

Saturday involved more rum, the Token girl (who’s moving ’round the way), the bouncers at Solas (who turned me upside down), Paul and a German girl in Zum Schneider (who was entertaining), and a Russian blond (who was awfully handy) on 9th Street.

Sunday night, went to church and sat next to a friend who told me she couldn’t make it to my birthday. Then I walked home with Jenny again.

It’s Monday. Got 11 days left; the devil’s been calling. Afraid I’ll have to answer at some point. The devil and God comes when you’re on your knees.

Don’t wanna be on my knees again. Thankfully, that’s where the rum comes in.

Location: in my shower, thinking
Mood: wicked
Music: And when you think it’s all over, It’s not over, it’s not over

Categories
personal

It’s better my way

My fear is my only courage

In Marley’s “No Woman No Cry,” he’s got a line that goes:

My feet is my only carriage.

But if you listen to it, it sounds more like:

My fear is my only courage.

Since I was a kid, I misheard it. Figures. My life as a kid was all wrong.

You know, back then, I was so poor and so fat, only really had four shirts. It’s all we could afford. All my fat ass could fit. Red. Yellow. Brown-striped. And this god-awful sky blue velvet one.

Hey – betcha I got more clothes than you.

I got more clothes than anyone I’ve ever met. Anyone. And I meet a lotta folk. Statement of fact, that’s all.

Cause when I made some scratch, I bought clothes. Like 200+ ties. Not cheap ties, the good stuff. Man, I don’t even wear ties. All I do is wear jeans and tee-shirts, now. Finally grew outta it, I guess.

But you never grow outta that deep fear, do you? That deep fear that makes no @#$ sense. The fear that I’ll wake up and be this fat, poor, lonely dork in sixth grade again.

You know, my classmates threw rocks at me? Seriously, rocks.

No lie, this latest drama’s no fun. But when you’re in sixth grade and your classmates think stoning you’s high sport, well, that preps you for pretty much anything.

Don’t want pity. Don’t want charity. I just want a sec. Just gimme a sec – catch my breath, get on my feet. If you wanna do something for me, buy me some rum when you see me. Otherwise,

I’ll share with you – you see, my fear yeah? Is my only courage.
Well, yes, I’ve got to push on through.
But while I’m gone, everything’s gonna be all right.

 

Location: my apartment, all day
Mood: hopeful
Music: don’t shed no tears

Categories
personal

Just OK

Location: 22:08 yest, running home in the rain
Mood: wet
Music: Oh, how I try to be just okay. Yeah

Gshok sent me the above for absolutely no reason. Those are the best kind of gifts.

It’s nice to open the mailbox and get something that’s not a bill or junk. Or a letter from the IRS.

———-

Seemoore thinks I’m older and more somber in this blog, yet more friendly and effusive in person.

I often wonder how I come across. I don’t mean to be somber, I assure you.

Life has been somber lately, though.

Although punctuated with the occasional chance meeting and whatnot.

Man, I live for the occasional chance meeting and whatnot.

Categories
personal

Philly

Of course you’re 23

Rang up the the Sexologist last week.

Me: Gio and his girl Amy’re going to his friend’s birthday party (wait for it) in Philly this weekend. Thought I’d see you.
SX: How convenient. I could hang out Saturday night. BTW, I found your blog. I’m 22 not 23.
Me: (pause) Of course you are.

Off to Philly.

SX and I met up with Seemoore briefly at her restaurant; we both agreed that she’s very attractive. Why do pretty girls always think they’re not? Asked Seemoore if she believed all the stuff I wrote about. She said she did.

Me: Am I like what you expected?
Seemoore: You seem older in the blog. You’re more friendly and outgoing in real life.
Me: (laughing) I don’t like to visit my troubles on my friends in real life. Just you guys that read me – sorry ’bout that.

She actually paid for our dessert – she’s all win. Then SX and I left, spending the rest of the night talking and walking about town. It was punctuated by laughter as the laces of her boots constantly got tangled.

Her: I like how you just invite yourself over to my place. (dismissively) Men always just wanna get into my pants.
Me: Just looking to crash, darlin’. I can promise you I won’t try.
Her: Why not?
Me: (shrugging) Because.

We met up with her friend who told us about her sex life. In vivid detail. Evidently, I lived a very sheltered life in college I live a very sheltered life. Did I mention vivid? Later we watched a chick flick before we passed out.

Loathe to admit it, but I do enjoy the British chick flicks.

Came back Sunday morning. Gio and Amy were passed out in the back seat the whole ride back. 3 hours to get to Manhattan and an hour to get through Manhattan.

Turning 35 in two weeks. Gotta come up with 26K the same day as my birthday.

Ain’t that a kick in the head?

Location: 14:00 yest, going 80 on the Penn Turnpike
Mood: tired
Music: finding myself making every possible mistake