Tag: conversations

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personal

What gets wetter the more it dries?

Unseeing things

Him: What gets wetter the more it dries?
Me: A towel.
Him: Correct!

It’s been a weird week, which sounds about right. Like always, I need to sort it all out.

Her: I just want to be normal and boring: A job that I sort of hate, two kids that have too many activities, and a husband that knows that when I make a certain favorite dinner of his, it’s my silent I Love You.
Me: Let me get the kid down and I’ll give you a quick ring. 
Her: Not best time to speak.
Me: OK, then we’ll try at some point. I’m sorry things are so hard.
Her: Thank you. I feel like you understand better than anyone else
Me: Like I said, grief and I are old friends. Take care of yourself.

For all the other single parents out there, I honestly don’t know how you do it. I’m tired all the damn time. Him getting COVID and missing a week of school didn’t help matters.

Still, I’m grateful that his COVID experience was radically different than mine. He was happy as a clam and at full energy levels.

Him: What was the tallest mountain in the world before Mount Everest was discovered?
Me: Hmm, I don’t know.
Him: Mount Everest!
Me: Clever…

He’s so full of energy and curiosity that it’s hard to manage. But I’m trying to see the world as he does – full of wonder and mysteries to be solved.

Him: (walking outside with me) How does water get into our apartment?
Me: (stopping) Do you see that wooden barrel on the top of that building? Ok there are two pipes inside, one small pipe that sends water up to the barrel. The second pipe is bigger and…
Him: (later) There are wooden barrel everywhere, papa!
Me: That’s called the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon; once you see something, you can’t unsee it.

Therein lies my problem with life. I’ve seen way too much. I know too much.

As much as I’d like to unsee things, most times I can’t. Which is why I value the ability to forget so much.

I spend a lotta my time actively trying to forget things and people. To survive everything I’ve survived, I have to leave so many things I once loved in the past.

Man, to be like this kid and see the world for the first time. To get a do-over.

Him: What are those lines in the street for?
Me: It’s so the cars don’t hit each other. They’re called “lanes,” and people try to stay in them to keep everyone else safe.

I’m not sure how I could possibly be more jaded. Shit, the entire month of May is a reminder of things I’ve lost and try to forget.

Him: What do you have to break to use?
Me: Eggs.
Him: Correct!

As much as I take care of the boy, the boy takes care of me as well.

I can be coldly dispassionate about things but, with children, that’s not healthy. So, I find myself trying to be in the moment with him as much as I can – with optimism and joy, which is pretty much him in a nutshell.

Him: What has four legs, is green and brown, and would hurt you if it fell off of a tree?
Me: (thinking) I don’t know.
Him: A pool table!
Me: (laughing) Well, that’s just silly.
Him: (giggling) I know! A pool table!

I know he doesn’t know that I’m faking it.

But I worry that, someday, he will.

See, while I know a shitton of nonsense, people escape me.

I don’t get people. While I’m great with people, I don’t understand people.

That’s a whole entry in itself.

In some ways, I’m great with the kid because I talk to him the way I talk to most of the world, for better or worse.

Few people get my full dispassionate cerebration, otherwise, I’d just be alone again, like I was when I was a kid.

Him: What eats apples and books?
Me: A bookworm!
Him: Correct!

I remember watching Dexter with Alison in Bermuda and wondering if she made the connection that both that character and I (to a much lesser degree) fake so much of being normal.

If she did, she never let on.

Suppose, in the end, it didn’t matter.

As for the kid, all I really want is for this kid to be better, and happier, than I. At the very least, I hope and expect that he’ll get along with people as well as I do but he’ll understand them in a way I don’t think I ever will.

If wishes were horses, yeah?

Him: What building has the most stories?
Me: A library!
Him: You’re good at these, papa!
Me: (nodding) I spent a lot of my life thinking, kiddo. A lot of time alone with my thoughts. Something that I hope you won’t have to do.

Location: the basement of my brain again
Mood: dreading Mother’s Day
Music: Are we out of the woods yet? (Spotify)
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Questionable and Complex

Palsgraf

Her: I showed my friend your picture and told her that you’re almost 49. She said, “He looks 32!” And she’s Asian!
Me: Whoa, now that’s a compliment.
Her: I’ll send it to you so you can frame it in your room.
Me: God, yes please…

I’m turning 49 in a week. On the one hand, I realize that not everyone gets to celebrate turning a year older so I’m lucky to have the chance.

On the other hand, every passing year gives me anxiety, not so much that I’ll die – although there is that – so much as I feel I’m running out of time to give the boy the tools I think he’ll need to navigate this world.

In some way, this blog itself is a tool for him.

I try to write as honestly as I can so that he can get what knowledge he can about why I am as I am and how I think.

Suppose time will tell if this is a good or terrible idea.

Her: You’re not worried about all the stuff you write about?
Me: No. Because I write about life and life itself is questionable and complex. If nothing else, he’ll read this blog and know that Alison and I loved him and I loved her. That works for me.

Her: I’m just visiting a few different schools. Wait, you’re the knife guy!
Me: What? (laughs) I’ve never had anyone call me that before.
Her: Really? But you are the knife guy, yeah?
Me: So it would seem.

There’s a place called the Summer Palace (頤和園; Yíhéyuán) that was the pinnacle of luxury and glory back in the days of Imperial China.

The legend goes – and this might just be pure sexism against someone that was actually awful but also happened to be a woman – that the Empress Dowager Cixi embezzled funds from the Chinese Navy to pay for work with it.

At the time, the Chinese navy was supposed to be the strongest navy in all of Asia. But when the Japanese invaded and the navy was totally trounced, the truth was uncovered – all of their technological and personnel advancements were just fluff.

Regardless if it was the Dowager or someone/something else embezzling the money, the money that was supposed to get to the military, never made it there.

Here, we’re seeing the same thing in Russia versus Ukraine. Just like China was supposed to easily beat Japan, Russia was supposed to easily beat Ukraine. But how does a politician like Putin own things like $700 million yachts?

I suspect the same way the Dowager could afford a second palace.

In 2022, China is still struggling to be the equal of the west, because of this national theft.

Think that that 2122’s Russia – provided we didn’t annihilate the world via nukes by then – will still be struggling with cascading consequences of what’s happening right now.

Who the fuck needs a second palace or a $700 million yacht?

There’s a name that instantly pulls every lawyer in America back to their first year of law school: Palsgraf.

It’s a long story, but it too is a story of unforeseen, cascading consequences.

The last time I said that name was close to a quarter century ago.

Her: How would you prove the chain of causation in that?
Me: Well, this is first time in my life, I’ve been on a date and the phrase, “Chain of causation” was used. Have you ever dated a lawyer before, Counselor?
Her: God, no.
Me: Yeah, I never fished off the company pier before. Oh wait, you’re gonna make me say it…
Her: What?
Me: Palsgraf.
Her: Oh, no! You said it! (laughs)

Location: A park, trying to get out of a conversation with a different pretty girl because she was freaking me out
Mood: more conflicted than ever, but for totally different reasons
Music: Any way you want it, that’s the way you need it (Spotify)
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Love is the eye of the storm

That’s why I asked

It’s been busy lately, for a number of reasons.

Red: I should tell you I’m married.
Me: That would have been useful information to have prior to this.
Her: We have an open relationship.
Me: I’m glad you found your person. Unfortunately, that’s not my bag.
Her:  I’ve never [had someone just say no].
Me: Life is nothing if not unexpected. I’m a terrible person, to be sure. But I don’t fuck with marriage.

Blue: Do you really want to know?
Me: That’s why I asked.
Her: Both my parents died and I was 16. So it was either leave school or be homeless. I made a choice. That’s probably why I’m [so successful now].
Me: That’s called a “Hobson’s Choice,” because you really had no choice at all. And I’m sorry.
Her: Don’t be. You didn’t do anything. And everything worked out.
Me: (shrugging) I’m sorry because I’m human. And some people’s human experience is much worse than others.
Her: I appreciate that, after all you’ve been through, you still have empathy for others.
Me: (laughing) How could I not? 

Green/White: I was married. Twice. Are you sure you want to hear about it?
Me: That’s why I asked.
Her: (shrugging) The first one, I was just a kid and it ended early. But the second one just ended right before the pandemic. He had his own trauma and the deal was that he would go to therapy after we got married.
Me: I assume he didn’t.
Her: (bitterly) No. You can tell I’m still angry about it. Sorry.
Me: Don’t apologize for your genuine emotions. You earned them. So, you’re entitled to them.

White: There wasn’t a straw in my drink.
Me: OK. (thinking) Ah, you think I put something into it.
Her: Well…
Me: (taking a sip of her drink) If I end up passing out because someone – not me – roofied your drink, just make sure I get into a cab toward the upper west side?

Black: It’s like a job. Once or twice a week, I wake up, switch on an app, answer a few dozen stupid/boring questions from a buncha stupid/boring guys, and then go on with my week.
Me: Ah, modern romance. Where do I stack up?
Her: (laughing) Are you sure you want to know?
Me: That’s why I asked.
Her: Charming. Handsome.  But shallow. Unable to commit.
Me: (nodding) Seems accurate.

Me: Well, I don’t mean this sound overly romantic, but if you’ll allow me to be maudlin and sentimental…
Her: Let’s hear it.
Me: (nodding) The universe, all of reality, is a storm. Love is the eye of that storm; the one bit of peace in an otherwise cruel and dispassionate world that doesn’t give a shit if we live or die. We’re born naked and confused, without claws, teeth, or fur. Nothing. We only survived because someone loved us enough to make sure we did. I don’t get why someone would want less than that. It’s like someone turning down a billion dollars. Yet, they throw away love for stupid shit as if it isn’t the most rare and valuable thing in existence. And that, Counselor, is what I want. Something I had once and was taken from me.

Location: Solas, of course
Mood: exhausted
Music: Put your arms ’round my neck, and your heart on my chest (Spotify)
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Getting random gifts

Still fighting my demons

My instructor and I run this FB kali group and, just for fun, I posted something a while ago that went something like, “If you’d like to buy me a random gift, under no circumstances buy me these knives…” and I then proceeded to list all of the knives I wanted.

Welp, no less than three people ended up buying me a knife – four if you count my buddy Miller’s gift for me in December.

One guy was from my gym and just handed me one, another girl dropped one off with me, and the last one was mailed to me.

That’s pretty wild.

Since it worked the first time: People of the internet, now I would like a wealthy, hot, busty, brilliant, woman that likes to clean but hates to cook between the ages of 32-36 that doesn’t think I’m the worst person on the planet.

It’s that last bit where I run into issues.

Although, not everyone I’ve ever dated thinks I’m the worst.

Been chatting with one lady and we’ve been trading notes as to how awful dating in NYC/LA is.

Doesn’t matter if you’re a dude or dudette, dating stinks. But, the alternative is to start eating cat food and forgetting one’s pants, evidently…

I’m spending waaaaaayy too much time watching the horrors unfold in Ukraine.

Been asking my Russian/Ukranian friends to translate things for me but everything is awful no matter how you translate it.

As you might imagine, Lviv is from…Lviv. She doesn’t want to talk about any of it and I get that. Ditto for BrightBea.

Much closer to home, I’m dealing with much smaller worries. It seems that the boy’s getting a pretty bad bout of eczema. It’s been a while now, but I was hoping with the warmer weather that it’d clear up, but it’s not.

I’ve got humidifiers running 24/7 here because I had a friend that had just one of the worst cases of it on the planet and it’s pretty terrifying vis-a-vis her quality of life.

Definitely don’t want anything like that for the kid. He’s got enough to worry about.

That’s him with me visiting a friend’s place. Brought the rum to spread the gospel.

Still, he’s handling it life pretty well.

Him: After soccer yesterday, I heard one of the moms saying that he’s the happiest kid they’ve ever seen. You must be doing something right.
Me: It’s the light beer in his thermos.
Him: (laughing) My son told his speech therapist that his fave thing is to drink beer with his dad.
Me: When does Child Services come to take him away?
Him: Meh. I’m not worried. You’ll be my lawyer, right?
Me: Oh man, if that’s the case, you’re screwed.

On a related note…

Her: Honestly, for your dating profile, you should just write: “Manhattan homeowner, amazing shape, amazing dad,” and be done with it.
Me: (laughing) Every dad thinks they’re a great dad.
Her: Yeah. But you really are. I honestly don’t get why you’re single.
Me: Where to begin…?

We shot more episodes of Scenic Fights this past weekend but the kicker’s that we did it at the gym.

We’re experimenting with a buncha things, including have Pac run some episodes as he’s our Judo coach.

Fingers crossed everything will work out ok.

Still fighting my demons but I don’t believe them (anymore).

Location: earlier today, taking a cab home with a CEO
Mood: ambitious
Music: I believe I’m on my way up and I’m going (Spotify)
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Interestingly Weird

It’s like a salad but with alcohol

Saw my college friends – with alla our kids – the other day. They wanted to check out the gym. The kids had a blast running all over the mats.

Afterwards, we walked over to Shake Shack which is exactly what they all wanted.

I’ve known one of these guys since we were 16 years old – 32 years. It really boggles the mind.

There’s an older fella, that joined our gym that lives just a few blocks from my pad.

He runs a hedge fund, but used to play for the NFL, so he’s got a tonier address than I do. Much.

Mentioned to him that Charles Pan-Fried Chicken moved from Harlem to halfway between the two of us.

The lines have been around the block but he has people that work for him so he sent one of them to wait in line for us.

Him: What should she order?
Me: Definitely the fried chicken, the collard greens, and the ribs. God, the ribs are killer. Man, it’s good to have people.

She ordered enough to feed an army. Or just me.

Me: I’m going to kill all the chicken.
Him: Go ahead, we got it for you!

Because he used to play for the NFL, he’s a giant. But I think I ate more than him, which is a bit embarrassing.

I brought the kid over for dinner to boot, and his wife just adored him. It was sweet to see.

Me: (to kid) You’re making a mess!
Her: It’s fine, I have a son and remember this.
Me: You’re being too nice.

The kid literally just wanted the mac and cheese and the cornbread. He ate FOUR pieces of cornbread.

Him: I’m full.
Me: (scoffing) Yeah, of carbs.
Him: I love carbs!

Years ago, I was always the youngest of the people I hung out with. A number of them called me, “the kid,” a lot.

Since Alison died, I mostly hung out with people from my gym, who were all at least 15-20 years younger than me, making me the elder statesman of the group.

But, I’m trying to fix a buncha things in my life. One thing is how over-weighted I’ve been with much younger people in my social circle.

It’s fine, for the most part, but when you’re the oldest and most experienced person in a group, you’re usually giving information rather than getting it.

And, like I’ve said a buncha times before, you’re the average of the five people you hang out with the most and I feel my mind focusing on things that it shouldn’t be focusing on.

So, between hanging out with Steel and his surgeon brother, my college friends, and the NFL Player, I feel more like the version of me I was before everything went down.

Plus, I like hanging out with hyper-ambitious and successful people because their energy rubs off on me.

After all, it’s better to have success models versus failure models.

My life’s becoming interestingly weird again, which I kinda missed.

Later on, I invited the NFL Player out to eat some Chinese food to repay him for all the killer soul food we had.

Me: Notice something?
Him: What?
Me: You’re one of the only non-Chinese here. So, you know the food’s killer.

Ordered an obscene amount of food, as you might imagine.

We ended up grabbing drinks around the way – I ordered a mojito…

Him: What is that, exactly?
Me: It’s like a salad, but with alcohol.

…and some Hemmingway daiquiris.

He’s set on fixing me up with some of his friends.

Him: (showing me a picture) What about her?
Me: Oh, she’s pretty. But I’m currently…
Him: (interrupting) She’s worth half-a-billion dollars.
Me: Welp, suddenly, I’m a lot more interested. Although the last almost billionaire I dated was an asshole. Wait, you wanna set up a super wealthy woman with a dude that runs a gym?
Him: (laughs) You have your charm. (later) Let’s go talk to the singer…

Next thing you know, he’s shoving me in front of the singer at the bar we’re at.

Him: In terms of charm, out of 10, what would you give my buddy Logan here?
Her: (laughing) A solid 10.
Him: There you go. Logan?
Me: Jesus Christ…I can’t bring him anywhere. So, what’s your story?

Location: earlier today, learning a pressure pass with Pac
Mood: flattered
Music: know right here and now that I’d go anywhere with you (Spotify)
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Being scared and being brave

Aren’t mutually exclusive

The boy’s not been feeling well so I had to cancel/rearrange a lotta my weekend plans.

Him: Are you mad?
Me: I’m not mad, I’m worried, there’s a difference.
Him: (apprehensive) Is this going to hurt?
Me: It’s gonna feel uncomfortable but, no, it won’t hurt.
Him: (begins to cry)
Me: No. Stop crying. I need you to be brave.
Him: But, I’m scared.
Me: Being scared and being brave aren’t mutually exclusive, kid. You have to be scared to be brave, otherwise, you’re just nuts. You’re not nuts are you? (he shakes head) Good. Be brave. You get points in life for being brave.

I think he’s ok. We’ll see.

Should note that I felt a lot more scared myself than I let on. A kid needs confidence that everything will be ok, even if you don’t necessarily feel that yourself.

Goddamn, being a parent is often…difficult. Being a single parent is that much worse.

On that note, I was scrambling to find coverage for him recently and I needed someone I could trust with him, especially since he wasn’t feeling well, so I reached out to Pez.

She was a doll and came by on on Monday to watch him so I could get some things done.

Chad swung by as well to make sure it was all handled; it’s nice knowing I have people that care.

Unfortunately, it appears that the boy hijacked Pez’s phone as evidenced by the above video grab…

All-in-all, I bailed on three women this past weekend but managed to see a blond banker for some Korean BBQ.

Decided that I’m only going to eat Korean BBQ when I go out from now on because it’s just so easy to stay keto/paleo without doing anything special. I’m a solid 153 right now, three pounds from my ideal weight.

Anywho, meeting up with people is just interesting to see what life out in the world is like.

After all, my regular friends all have some aspects that mirror me, whereas strangers provide glimpses into lives I know nothing about.

The blond banker told me that another guy asked her out and she had already agreed to meet him when he – without first having met her, just based on her looks alone – asked her to come move in with him and he would also cover all her bills.

Seriously, how shallow – and I say this as an alleged shallow, selfish, womanizing, narcissist – are people these days?

Her: It was kind of a cool offer but, meet a girl first, you know?
Me: Well, my son and I’ll take him up on his offer if he’s still looking.
Her: (laughing) You and your son want to live with him?
Me: If he’s paying all my bills and giving us free room and board, sure. Plus I cook. I don’t clean though.

Seriously, thank god for the average frustrated chump. They make grey men like me look amazeballs.

Her: (texting me later on that night and sending the below) Thanks for dinner! I think I was actually very nice to this guy.

Me: Please, for the love of god, please let me [share this].
Her: LOL! As long as you don’t [leave any identifying information], go for it.

Location: my blue bathroom, asking if he’s ok
Mood: so very entertained
Music: I would never break this promise (Spotify)
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Breaking my own heart

Kicked outta bed

Recently, there’s been a spate of just awful news coming out about Asians getting brutally assaulted in NYC. But  I was surprised to get a phone call about one such assault that I just read about.

Her: I need some help. Is there a good time I can call you?

Turns out that she was called to be a trustee for this woman that died from her injuries from one of these beatings and wanted my legal advice. I told her that I couldn’t technically offer legal advice but I would help if I could.

After all, I don’t know where I would be myself if people didn’t try and help Alison and me.

Me: Sure. We can chat now. Let me get my headset.

I started my son in a Chinese class not too far from my house. It was oddly nerve-wracking for me but the teacher made me feel at ease.

Her: You don’t speak to your son in Chinese at home?
Me: Lady, *I* can barely speak Chinese.
Her: Well, I have to say, I’ve never met a child that didn’t speak Chinese that was so … social. He literally walked in like he knew everyone here.
Me: Yeah, that sounds like him.
Her: Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. (laughing) Oh, during the kitchen portion, while we were pretending to make a sandwich, he made an actual one and ate it.
Me: Oh yeah, that’s definitely my kid. Sorry about that.

Note that everyone’s been calling me, not the other way around.

I point this out only because I find it funny how literally no one contacts me in the past year due to COVID but since the day I wrote that I got the vaccine, the floodgates open.

On that note, My buddy Mas stopped by to catch up and bring me out to lunch. We’ve known each other since forever.

Me: Do you talk to anyone else from back in the day?
Him: Nope, just you.
Me: I think we’re the only ones that, pretty much, look the same as we did 20 years ago.
Him: I think I look better actually. I’ve been on the carnivore diet – essentially just meat and fat with leafy greens. No carbs.
Me: Jesus. That’s even harder core than me.

He was there on the night I met Alison. Dunno if I ever told you that.

The blurry pic below is the only one I could find of Mas and me from that night – he’s in the lower right hand-corner.

It was almost exactly 13 years ago, April 7, 2008. I was just about to turn 35. It was a little after midnight when this pic was taken and I had just made out with the blonde behind me.

30 minutes later, I had her number and was walking out the door, when I met Alison McCarthy right before 1AM. She was walking in with her date, Tall Scott, but asked me to stay.

Instead, I left, but not before telling her that we’d have beautiful children someday. All these years, later, I was right about that.

Well, fuck me. I think I just broke my own goddamn heart.

Speaking of eating out with friends, someone I dated once dropped me a line unexpectedly and invited me out to dinner.

I’m super busy with life and the kid these days but it’s hard to say no to people that are just nice to you, like Mas and her. In this world, I think nice is underrated.

It helps that she’s a hot, grey-eyed, busty blonde that’s the same age as I was in the pic above, but you get my drift.

God, I’m so shallow.

Honestly, I judge alla these people that wanna hang out with a shallow, selfish, womanizing narcissist like me.

Speaking of hanging out with a fella like me, a chat with a green-eyed nurse I had recently proves that, again, I’m not – at all – equipped to deal with modern love.

Me: You know, you’re the second girl I know that had someone slap them in the face while fooling around. When did this become a thing?
Her: Did she kick him out of bed, smash his phone against the wall, and tell him to never fucking call her again?
Me: No idea. But that’s kinda hot (quickly) what you did, not what he did. (laughing) I can assure you that that’s not my thing.
Her: So, what’s your thing?
Me: You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. No girl ever does.
Her: Try me.
Me: I will. But not tonight.

Location: earlier today, asking the doorman if I was in the right place
Mood: hopeful
Music: I like the way your heart works, not cold like the others (Spotify)
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I want to have an argument

We’re about to find out

Her: How spicy is Sundubu-jjigae?
Me: We’re about to find out.

We’d just left the studio and she was ok but I was still really hungry. Since she’s on a mostly meat-diet, we ended up heading over to a Korean joint in Billyburg.

As for the answer to her question above, it turns out – at least for her – pretty spicy. Luckily, we also got some sashimi and some Korean tacos in honor of Pac.

We asked the waitress to take a picture of us and she tried her best. This is the best shot of the lot that she took.

At least she was very nice.

Afterward, we headed home. As we pulled up in front of my pad, she asked me if we could have an argument.

Me: OK.
Her: Look, I’m ok with things not being defined but I’m impressed how long you can be with things not being defined.
Me: Like you said, we seem to get along better when we’re not together.

It was raining so hard in NYC that night that we got a tornado warning. Which kinda matched what was going on inside her whip.

But, all-in-all, it was nice actually, chatting arguing with her under the stormy rain.

Sometimes you need a little rain to clear things up.

Afterward, I thanked her for the ride and all the company.

Me: It’s getting late, you should head home.
Her: Yeah.
Me: So, where are we now?
Her: I guess I’ll just see you later on this week.
Me: That’d be nice. See you then.

And then I went home and sat on my white couch thinking about all my possible pasts again.

It was actually wasn’t just my conversation with Mouse that got me thinking, but also a conversation Chad and I had in between shoots.

It reminded me of something I wrote just before Alison got sick.

Me: You know…my life is nuthin at all like what I thought it would five years ago. Or ever. Everything’s such a mess. It’s hard not to think about what could have been.
Him: I know this isn’t what you wanted, but you’re doing the best you can. If nothing else, your son will think he’s got a cool dad.
Me: I hope so. That’s one of the main reasons I’m doing this. I hope you’re right.

Location: home, waiting out the storm
Mood: hopeful
Music: I know, somewhere deep in my soul, that love never lasts (Spotify)

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All the Wrong Ghosts

Keys

Johnny called me the other day. I didn’t pick up.

I called the Devil the other day. He didn’t pick up.

All the wrong ghosts haunt me.

Movie: “You have 212 more supplicants to see you.”
Me: (to wife) That’s why we have judges – they act on the king’s behalf because the king couldn’t possib…
Alison: I have to write down everything you tell me while watching movies and television and call it, Stuff my husband tells me during movies and television.

Did you ever wonder why “movie trailers,” are called that, even though they come before the movie?

Or why the Three Musketeers candy bar is called that, when it’s one single bar?

The former is because the trailer used to trail the main film but no one stuck around to watch them, so they switched it.

The latter’s because it used to be three different candy bars – chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry – until just after WWII when it cost too much to make all three flavours.

The thing is that these things just stick around, long after they make any sense to anyone.

In this post, I wrote about putting up a key holder for Alison and me. I never put up a picture of it because I was worried about someone being able to duplicate our keys from the picture so I never did.

But, after the gate incident with Pac, I replaced my locks, so it’s a moot point.

I took that picture up above with Alison on June 6, 2014 and told her that her spot would always be the first hook.

She hung up her keys at the end of October, 2015 and never took them down again. They’re still there now. If you ever come over, those are her keys.

I never touch them.

I always tell myself that this is the year I’ll take them down but I can’t bring myself to do it. Which makes no sense, I know.

But, neither do trailers or single chocolate bars called Three Musketeers.

It’ll be November soon. I’ll be drinking again then.

Who am I kidding? I’ve already started. Because.

Podcast Version
Location: this fucking house
Mood: not good
Music: Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me (Spotify)

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Don’t let damaged people damage you

Do you want a report?

Lviv’s still looking for her person.

Her: This 47 year-old hit on me the other day. People that are 47 look super old.
Me: Wait, I’m 47.
Her: (scoffing) You don’t look THAT old.

ML also dropped me a line. Some guy was super upset he got rejected by her so he wrote her this nasty, nasty email. I find that disappointing.

Me: There are lots of damaged people in the world. Don’t let their damage damage you.
Her: Thank you for that.

Dating’s rough in general and doesn’t get any easier as you get older. On that note, I also got a ring from the ABFF yesterday.

ABFF: One guy wrote me and asked me how my weekend was. I was like, “Do you want a report?!”
Me: Maybe he was just trying to be nice?
Her: Look, Logan, I’m just trying to keep rapists and murderers away from my kids…
Me: Jeez! That should be a general life goal, irrespective of kids.
Her: …and I agree with you 100% on “LOLs.” Like, what are you, a balloon? It’s hard meeting someone normal in their 40s.
Me: Wait, there’re normal guys in their 40s. I’m in my 40s.
Her: Nope. I’m not doing this backhanded compliment thing with you where you get to brag that you look great for your age.
Me: Well, that’s disappointing.

I think the pandemic’s getting on the nerves of single people. A buddy of mine’s getting tired of being cooped up so he’s been hitting on randos he meets on the streets. It reminded me of a conversation I had once.

OK, many times.

Her: Sorry, I have a boyfriend.
Me: Well, good thing I’m gay then.
Her: (laughs)

Interestingly, Lviv, Mouse, and the ABFF are all at career – and personal – crossroads.

After Mouse drove me back to my pad from the Scenic Fights shoot, I invited her to come in to eat and watch a flick.

Mouse: No. I have a headache. Man, that’s the first time I’ve ever used that excuse before.
Me: I literally just asked if you wanted to eat and watch a flick.
Her: Sorry, still trying to get a handle on all my heath things. OK, I’ll come in. We can spin the wheel of misfortune! See where we end up.
Me: Always good to be positive.

We ended up watching a completely innocuous rom-com called Love, Guaranteed. I’m always a sucker for a good passable rom-com.

While very trite, I did like that that they made this guy who was an avowed womanizer a good person. The women he met, he didn’t end up with but they all thought he was generally a good and decent guy.

In that respect, I thought it was rather unique. Also, they had a the main female character drive a Karmann Ghia.

Me: I used to want one so bad. But they don’t run fast.
Mouse: Perfect, neither do you.
Me: So glad you decided to come in, Mouse…

Podcast Version
Location: this morning, getting pressured in LIC
Mood: busy
Music: save all your dirtiest jokes for me (Spotify)
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