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personal

That which clings

Location: back in my black chair
Mood: grateful
Music: struggled in vain to solve this riddle with my brain

Central Park in early spring

Thanks for the birthday wishes. Won’t be calling on you again until a year from now.

My brother came with his girlie from Cali for my bday. No decent pizza round his parts so we hit up our local Queens pizza jointa as well as John’s and Patsy’s.

As for my bday, didn’t really do much – some dim sum and then in bed by 11PM. Heartgirl’s not about the dim sum.

Quite a different life than just a couplea years ago, yeah?

Speakinga which, my buddy’s still getting over his girlie. He always has a million excuses why he won’t clean his map.

Kept thinking he had a chance, if he just let it go for a year or so. But at some point, y’muck around with a scar too long and it doesn’t heal. The very definition of clingy is that which clings. And no one wants that which clings.

Suppose parta why worry about him’s cause I easily could have been him with my ex. I mean, I lived with the girl; saw her ever day for four years. Then one day – *poof* – she’s gone. Saw her again twice in four years.

She never came back and I never waited for her to.

See, y’can’t plead, argue, beg, or logic your way into someone’s life.

All y’can do is clean your map, throw the deuce, and say Peace out.

All y’can do is burn your boats and try to make it home.

If she comes back, great – try again with your semi-clean map.

If she doesn’t, great – y’might meet a beautiful, green-eyed, blond who buys you nice shiny.

Logan's Ipad

YASYCTAI: Get your teeth cleaned. I wanna make out with someone if only cause my teeth feel amazing. (60 mins/2 pts)

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personal

Logan’s 37/Adulthood’s funny

Location: in front of my iPad.
Mood: old but content
Music: find myself remembering now and then

Logan Lo with some rum

Heartgirl got me an iPad. She’s lovely – both the iPad and Heartgirl.

———-

Him: So why is oriental offensive to people?
Me: (shrugging) Three reasons, I suppose:
1. It means east, which implies easta someth’n, and if we’re east, then easta who?
2. It picks up connotations just like any word does. Like there’s nuthin wrong with the word piss, it’s just the monosyllabic Anglo-Saxon waya saying the polysyllabic Latin urination. But connotations, y’know? (pause) And
3. it’s a rug dude, something you walk on. Would you wanna be called something that people wipe their feet on?
Him: (laughing) No, I suppose not.

Met up with onea the fellas that I brought to court recently – not this idiot but his landlord – and cost me some Manhattan real estate. Nice guy, actually.

Adulthood’s funny.

People you war with today, y’might find sitting across a peach-coloured couch in the future, discussing the finer points of etymology. The key’s to not just fight hard but honorably. And when the fighting’s over, just move on.

He gets props cause he fought a good fight. If things were different, we mighta been friends.

Speak’na adulthood, 37 on Saturday. Way closer to 40 than 20. Luckily, there’s rum in my not-too-distant future to soften the blow.

For thosea you reading me for a while, you know the drill – wanna know if anyone’s still reading besides the four or five stalwart commenters I got.

So, wish me a happy birthday, all of you bastards that read me but never say anything.

Logan Lo at 37

YASYCTAI: Hit that comment button. (1 min/0.5 pts)

Categories
personal

Totally Should

Central Park in spring

Her: I’m too tired to work out. (pause) Tell me I’m fat, maybe that’ll get me to go out and run.
Me: Sheyeah right – that’s the adult equivalent of, “Hey, pull my finger.”

Back when my insomnia was raging hardcore, was reading about a book a week. Lately, been reading about one every 2-3 weeks. One of the books I read on vacation was Free, which had this interesting Tim O’Reilly quote I’ve always subscribed to:

[T]he enemy of the author is not piracy, but obscurity.

Her: So will you keep writing your blog? I’m just asking because I’m curious.
Me: Not sure. The whole point was to make a blog was to send out some stories I’ve written. Should get going on that.

I totally should.

———-

Saw Date Night for a date night. Quite good, actually. Had no less than two people commenting that they were concerned that all the funniest bits were already shown on TV in the previews – like that last Adam Sandler flick.

Luckily, no.

Actually, my weekend was quite nice as a whole. Also finally saw The Blind Side. Two great flicks in one weekend. Not a bad way to go.

Location: yest, all over Brooklyn
Mood: ambitious
Music: want to know if the answer’s in my hands

Categories
personal

Braun M&Ms

A good buddy of mine just got married

DUMBO restaurant

Just tried to make some sourdough bread and it barely rose. Damn.

I’ll try again.

———-

Me: Do you wanna move to San Deigo?
Her: I heard it’s boring there.
Me: We’re boring.
Her: This is true.

Still daydreaming about elsewhere again.

Story goes that Van Halen put in all of their contracts that a bowla M&Ms; without a single brown M&M; had to be waiting backstage for them otherwise they’d cancel an entire concert. Sounds like vain diva thing to ask, yeah?

Turns out, it was a shrewd business move, cause their shows’re complex in terms of setup, and each linea their contracts had to be completed so that the show’d go off without a hitch. If they went backstage and there wasn’t a bowl or any brown M&Ms;, they immediately knew that no one read the contract closely.

Like I always say, it’s the little things.

Speakinga little things, dusted off my old German book recently.

Vielleicht ziehen wir nach Deutschland um. Aber sie spricht kein Deutsch (nicht dass ich kann Deutsch). Und ich spreche kein Französisch..

Na, wenigstens haben wir Rum…

———-

It’s April 2010. Gonna be 37 this month. Oh my.

Suppose it’s better than the alternative.

Location: the same old
Mood: daydreaming
Music: dreaming of blue skies, new horizons and sights

Categories
personal

And I’m not

Location: my grey half-couch
Mood: distressed
Music: You don’t know me at all

Funky chair from the MOMA 20100404

Glad somea you liked my last post.

Interestingly, only four things I said’re false.

Ah, mystery…

———-


Me: I think I can come. Lemme ask the girl.
Him: Why don’t you tell her that you’re going out, dammit?
Me: And that’s why you’re single and I’m not.
Him: That’s probably true.
Saw a buddy on Saturday in a park downtown. The sun was out but the soil was still muddy. We started off fencing and ended up wresting in the mud.

Then the girl and I went off to the MOMA to check out some exhibits.

Sunday, went to church for Easter.

Assuming that I’m correct in that your life is your 1/3 physical, 1/3 intellectual, and 1/3 spiritual, felt good about my weekend.

Except for my Sunday night. It could have been (lots) better, but y’can’t have it all.

Monday, court again – not involving me, thankfully – and then off to see the rents. My dad’s home from away.

Me: There’s really no place like home, yeah?
Him: No place.
YASYCTAI: Intellectual, physical, spiritual – time for a stretch. (120 mins/2 pts)

Categories
personal

Today is…

Location: home for now
Mood: mischievous
Music: what I prove, that’s what I move, that’s what I give

Night in NYC

…a day for changes.

It’s hard living down your past. Learning Chinese, or martial arts, or anything, always found that the non-natives were tougher on me than the natives. Like the Caucasian Chinese teacher that graded us harder and gave more homework and exams than the Chinese ones.

Suppose he had something to prove.

Suppose it’s why I gotta know something about everything. It’s also why I think I lived such a violent life as a youngster – always had something to prove. Luckily, juvey records’re buried after 16.

Made my money running onea the largest underground clubs in NYC for four years. That woulda been fine but also met the Devil and took a cut of all of the Xctasy money floating around.

After Leona Helmsley sued me for trashing her joint, put what was left inna Intel stock, then dumped that inna this apartment.

So, considering all of that, decided to sell my pad and give it all away to charity. And considering what’s going on in the church, decided to go to seminary and become a priest.

Maybe this way I can make up for all those things that I’ve done.

Of course, I’ll have to give up the girl and rum.

Now, if y’believe anya what I wrote above, consider again the title.

YASYCTAI: Think about what today is… (10 mins/1 pt)

Categories
personal

Well-Traveled Gentlemen

Location: rainy NYC
Mood: sweaty
Music: the wind will be wailing but I will be sailing faster

Brooklyn Bridge at night

Merriam-Webster says that a gentleman is a man whose conduct conforms to a high standard of propriety or correct behavior.

Recently on ABC, report Brad Garrett on GMA, said about the scumbag that raped and killed seven-year old Somer Thomson “Law enforcement does not have time to keep track of people like this gentleman.”

Could someone please buy Mr. Garrett a copy of MW or the OED and dog-ear “gentleman” and “scumbag” for him.

Evidently, he can’t tell the difference.

———-

Went out to see the girl’s family for dinner this past weekend. There’s little better than a home-cooked meal.

It’s a bit remarkable how different life is just an hour’s drive from the city. There’re deer there my friends, deer.

Onea of the most positive things about all of this blogging’re the glimpses into lives so different than my own.

Mark Twain said that travel’s fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness….Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.

Another quote I like’s by Letterman, who said that Wherever we’ve traveled in this great land of ours, we’ve found that people everywhere are about 90% water.

Sometimes, think I’ve lived a rather sheltered life. Fella I know’s off to fight a war ina dusty and dangerous place and another’s come back. They’ve my appreciation and respect.

The weather’s changing again so I’m thinkinga bridges again.

Her: Would you live there?

Me: (shrugging) Honestly, I be happy where ever you were. Well, you and the rum. (pause) Mostly you though.

YASYCTAI: Avoid shaking hands with anyone today. See how long y’can last. (24 hours/1 pt)

Categories
personal

Neufchâtel

It doesn’t matter what you call it

You know all of these annoying hyperlinks in all of my posts? It’s to keep myself honest.

Won’t tell you that the smartest man in the US’s was a Long Island bouncer or that what you think of as cinnamon is probably something called cassia unless I can prove it to you.

Recently told a young guy that the Republican Party was founded for the main purpose of stopping slavery and that Abe Lincoln the first Republican. He didn’t believe me.

Grew up in quiet appreciation of Reagan saving the world and Giuliani saving my hide.

But George W. Bush’s speechwriter David Frum noted that the Republican party went horribly wrong when they took the track of convincing people that the Democratic Party was looking to kill babies and grandmothers. They got the very dregs of the party.

Do you know why people become a genre of a person? The liberal flower power girl, the bow-tie wearing conservative? Cause it makes hard decisions easy. Simply parrot what the person to the right (or left) of you is saying and say it with enough umbrage that no one will question you.

Answering with reasoned thought seems to not be in vogue any more. Politics has chosen to let people who respond as children – with anger, hatred, and ranting – set the scene for discourse. And if I say anything, I’m not a true Republican.

It appears Nixon wasn’t a true Republican either, as it was his plan Obama passed. Nor is Yale educated Frum. Nor is conservative Harvard educated speechwriter, Ben Stein.

If Sarah Palin represents the best of what we can offer, take my business elsewhere, thank you.

One more stupid fact: what we call cream cheese is actually the screw up of an old French cheese called Neufchâtel. But what we call light cream cheese is actually Neufchâtel.

My point’s essentially the same point as the last entry: that I don’t care what you call it. Things are what they are.

Location: 5AM, awake in bed
Mood: annoyed
Music: love me or hate me, it’s still an obsession

Categories
personal

My will’s done

Unreasonable people are dangerous

Dreary, rainy, NYC

Rarely do a political post, but here we are.

In Underworld, the final words of onea the main character’s, “My will is done, regardless.”

When Bush was president, he made some jaw-droppingly poor choices, yes. But he also quietly tripled AIDS help to Africa. $9 billion to a continent where the average adult survives on $1,968 annually. He deserves recognition of that. But the people that hate him don’t wanna hear it.

Now it’s flipped with Obama.

Consider the health care bill; the actual form of the bill’s closest to the one that Nixon – the prototypical Republican – tried and failed to pass in 1974.

It’s a universal health care paid by a sliding scale to help small business-owners and entrepreneurs, the backbone of the Republican party. Here’s Nixons plan in his own words.

The current plan’s shockingly similar.

And yet, cause it was introduced by the Democratic party, it’s denounced by the same party that introduced it in 1974.

Prejudice in its simplest form, has nuthin to do with race, creed, or religion.

It has to do with making an uninformed decision.

Not married to any one ideology, my decisions are made on the best available information at the time. It’s a reasoned way to live.

Stay away from those that are convinced they’re right. Cause reason has no place in their world. And unreasonable people are dangerous. Insert my fave Nietzsche quote here.

As for health care, don’t care that it’s a Republican bill passed by the Democratic party or vice versa. My will’s done, regardless.

Location: yest, 8PM getting drenched on 7th Ave
Mood: disappointed
Music: had a dream That I could fly

Categories
personal

Red Blood, Green Beer, Red Envelopes

A green Cipriani sign

 

Her: (annoyed) Please, you’ve kissed half of New York.
Me: The female half!
Her: (glares)
Me: (thinking) That probably wasn’t the right thing to say.

A fella I know opines that only the Irish should wear green on St. Patty’s day or wish another person a Happy St. Patty’s day. That’s just ridiculous.

That’s like saying no one should wish me a Happy Birthday on my birthday cause it’s my birthday not theirs.

Y’don’t say Happy _____ to make yourself feel good, y’say it for the listener.

Like if y’wish me a Happy Chinese New Year, I’d take it, regardlessa your race, creed or colour. Likewise, if I wish you a Happy Chinese New Year and you’re not Chinese, I’m ok with that and hope y’d be too.

Plus there’s green beer for one and red envelopes for the other. Both good things.

Next Chinese New Year, drinking green beer.

Or green rum. Or just regular rum.

Probably just regular rum.

Delicious rum.

———-

Y’ever watch CSI or Dexter where they shine that light all over the place to show if there’s blood splatter to indicate a crime occurred?

My pad’d glow like a teenage rave party. There was:

  • the time I sliced open my foot two hours before a vacation on a piece of glass (emergency room).
  • the time I fell down my stairs and smashed my face in, almost bleeding out (emergency room).
  • the time I sliced my hand in the kitchen (emergency room).
  • the time(s) I performed surgery on myself in the bathroom. (almost emergency room).
  • the time I killed the mouse in my other bathroom.
  • all of times I get knocked around wrestling or fencing.
  • today.

Should never live without a roommate.

On another point entirely, my insurance rate just went up. They must be reading this blog. I better buy an inexpensive burial insurance before it’s too expensive for me to even afford my own death.

Well, at least someone’s reading.

Location: yest, 7PM, looking for gauze on Broadway
Mood: bleeding
Music: you cut me open and I keep bleeding