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dating personal

How to get the person you want most of all

Downtown NYC

Don’t have any comment on the Casey Anthony trial. It shocks me a bit how nothing shocks me anymore. Although, it does provide the useful lesson that, if you’re gonna commit a heinous crime, try to be pretty(ish), young, and white. Or a celebrity. Pick one.

———-

This monk named Thomas Merton once said that, The biggest human temptation is to settle for too little. Think that’s totally true.

Got three friends, all of whom wanted to get good at dating. But they just stopped after a few months because they all just ended up with people that were good enough.

One of them told me that his girl didn’t want a guy that treats dating like an occupation. Which’s yet another onea those things that sounds good on a superficial level but doesn’t make any real sense.

I treated it like an occupation – more a hobby, really, but I’m going for parallelism here – started meeting people in September of 2006 and continued to be single until September of 2008. Two years and some 150+ dates later.

And it sucked. It makes you weary. And you have to be coldly dispassionate. The constant hellos and goodbyes.

But If it’s important, and valuable, it doesn’t come easy. Nuthin worth anything comes easy.

Early on, when I started dating, kept repeating favourite quote: With increased intelligence, comes increased capacity for pain. If you’re smart enough, you learn to push all that doubt to the side of your mouth. You get up, go out, and take your chances. S/he’s not going to just show up knocking. Most of all, you deal with the pain.

Bookmarks Lounge bar on top of the Library Hotel in Midtown NYC

Him: How do you know we’re gonna end badly?
Me: I don’t know. But I figure it will Cause I saw the first movie. In this sequel, all of the characters’re the same. You’re still you, she’s still her. Everything’s the same. Why would it be different this time around unless onea you were radically different? You were both single for just 35 days. How different could either of you be? You went back cause it hurt too much, and I understand that. But you deal with the pain to give her, and you, time to be different. 35 days’s not enough time. You should have waited and met more people.
Him: You met all those people, what’d that really get you?
Me: (shrugging) The girl I wanted most of all.

Location: desk, trying to not be insanely hot
Mood: insanely hot
Music: we brave bee stings and all And we don’t dive, we cannonball
YASYCTAI: Don’t make Casey Anthony a millionaire. Don’t buy her book, listen to her interviews, etc. Don’t reward evil. (20 years/0.5 pts)
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dating personal

Staying home and wallowing’s never a good idea.

Mussels and hard cider in the LES, NYC

Him: I should get back.
Me: Why? So you can go home and wallow?

Went out with two buddies the other night. It’s funny how life works.

  1. Met this woman named Jane years ago, she introduced me to her ex, Gio.
  2. Gio and I became friends and he introduced me to WM.
  3. WM and I were out late one night and he introduced me to Heartgirl.

The moral of that story is: don’t be a jerk and you might meet someone nice.

Anywho – Gio, WM and I of us grabbed some wings, mussels and beers down on the LES last week. Afterward WM and I hopped into his whip while Gio took his bike over to a karaoke joint at St. Marks. Gio beat us there by several minutes. They both belted out some tunes while I just listened. Not much of a singer, me.

Man riding bike in NYC

The fellas are both dealing with breakups. Told them both that it’s time to clean their maps; one’s trying and the other’s not. Like with most things, y’get better when you’re not thinking about getting better.

Speakinga getting better I’m sick again. Aren’t summer colds the worst? So HG and I just stayed home and saw happythankyoumoreplease with music from Jaymay. More on that when I’m not feeling like hot death.

Him: (the next day) Good hanging out and thanks for the advice…By the way, I stopped by Whiskey Tavern afterward, met a cute girl and got her digits.
Me: Of course you did.

Karaoke bar downtown NYC

Location: desk, trying to not be sick
Mood: sick
Music: it’s too early to say goodnight (goodnight)
YASYCTAI: See some indie films. (100 mins/0.5 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 ÃŽle 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 ÃŽle 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-CÅ“ur. 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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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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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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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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business dating personal

Having a date night with the wife

Logan Lo

HG and I have a habit of going to local NYC hotels for a quick night or two away from the house. It’s amazing what the word “deluxe” means inside city limits and what it means everywhere else in the world.

Which is not to say we had a bad time. We had dinner at a new restaurant called Tenpenny, where we had great service and some pretty impressive food as well. It’s nice having a date night with the wife. Afterward, we walked back to our hotel and sat at this very old school bar. I actually had an Old Fashioned instead of rum, just to shake things up a bit.

Made it back in time to wrestle for a bit and practice some fencing. My old injuries are bugging me like mad. Have to schedule another appointment with the doc. Growing old sucks but, to paraphrase Maurice Chevalier, it beats the alternative.

 

Logan Lo

Sunday was church where I spoke to this young lady; she’s dipping her toe back into the dating world.

Her: It’s hard finding the time to date.
Me: Well, you go to work five days a week right? That’s to keep a roof over your head and food on your plate. Finding someone to spend the resta your life deserves at least as much consideration as that, dontcha think?

Speakinga work, client just killed a project I was working on but it’s just as well, this is a busy month.

Trying to stay on topa things’s a lot like playing Whack-A-Mole, yeah?

 

Location: home, listening to the rain outside
Mood: injured
Music: til the day I die I run more game
YASYCTAI: Have some fish today. (15 mins/0.5 pts)
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personal

Who are you to tell people what to do?

Logan Lo

Her: Do you ever look or is it an unwritten rule that you don’t look?
Me: We don’t look.
Her: So you guys just stand there and do your business?
Me: Yep. How is it you never talked to other boyfriends about this?

———-

Allow me one little rant.

Am finding on FB and other social sites that people – mostly white people not from NYC and not the least bit affected – keep tsk, tsk, tsk-ing some of our celebrating the death of a man that killed 3,000+ of our friends and family. Anyonea these people could have been me or my kid sister on a given day.

I’m not screaming for joy in the streets but won’t judge the ones that are cause I know nonea their stories.

Look, just cause you find something offensive doesn’t mean it is.

Your opinion as to how I should act means as much to me as your opinion as to what I should have for breakfast.

What you think is your opinion and why should your opinion rule me?

———-

For those of you interested, will be having chili for breakfast. Cause that’s what I do.

 

Location: home, listening to the rain outside
Mood: irritated
Music: would follow and believe with faith like a child
YASYCTAI: Know that your opinion’s just that. (lifetime/2 pts)
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