Tag: dialogue

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personal

Lost

Me: You’re supposed to look before you cross!
PCD: (pointing at cross sign) I trust in the system!

We watch the Olympic ceremonies on Friday and go for a walk in the park. Saturday, wrestle and get can-opened by a smiling girl. 16 tabs of ibuprofen later, I crash two parties…

Me: There are three types of people in the world. Single, sorta single and not single.
Her: See that’s the problem in NY, everyone is sorta single. Which one’re you?
Me: (thinking) Hard to say these days.

…almost get into two fights, but don’t (not really, anywho)…

WM: It’s you, man. The same reason why that girl talked to you outside the bar is the same reason why those two guys wanted to fight with you.
Me: Howzit me?
Him: I’m telling you, y’give off a vibe.

…hurt some people…

Me: Are you crying?
Her: No.
Me: Are you lying to me?
Her: (pause) Yes.

…and go to church with LisaV, before I hit up a rooftop party with WM and Paul. Later, meet up with someone for a late night chat.

I should trust in the system. But I’m so lost.

I need a sign.

Location: 8:12 – arriving at work
Mood: confused
Music: I never meant the things I did

Categories
personal

The dark clouds are looming

Met up with old friends at Cafe DeVille the other night.

Him: So I’ve been asking girls how much it would take for them to pose nude for some tasteful photographs. Seems the going rate’s about $25,000.
Me: $25,000? I’d drop trou $5,000.
Him: Please – you’d do it for this drink here.
Me: (standing up and unbuckling)
Everyone: Whoa, whoa, whoa, Logan!!

Bryson and I spoke the other day. Should note that his wife’s beautiful and the chief resident of a local hospital.

Him: Whatcha you doing calling my wife!?
Me: Crap, you caught us!
Him: (laughing) How’re you?
Me: (pause) I’ve been better.
Him: (later) You’re luckier than most people: You’re living the single man’s dream. You live in Manhattan. And very few people go through life with even a handful of true friends. You’re blessed, brother.

I know it. God gave me everything. Just working through some things.

My mom called me. She said that the funeral hall couldn’t fit all the people that showed up for the funeral. Turns out that grandma died of an enlarged heart. Find that strangely fitting. Shut the door to my office and quietly broke down.

Saw Heartgirl for dinner in Jersey by the pier cause she’s leaving. Was beautiful out but we could see lightning over the city in the distance. Even though she doesn’t speak German, I told her, Die dunklen Wolken sind bedrohlich.

I’m le tired…

Location: 2:00, tossing and turning in bed
Mood: le tired
Music: When will I know that I really can’t go

Categories
personal

The button, the needle or the thread?

Location: 21:00 yest, getting stabbed in the throat
Mood: contemplative
Music: Walking by myself down avenues that reek of time to kill

No 6 landed this book deal a while ago and I helped her edit it – she gave me a credit on the acknowledgment’s page. When her book came out, I was traveling a lot so I’d stop by the local BN in town and buy up a few copies. Ended up buying ’bout 50 $!#@$ copies.

I’ve not been sleeping so I’ve been reading it. It’s weird cause I never read the finished product. It’s like I hear her voice and some words of mine in the pages. But it’s not bad. I know how the stories all end.

Diogenes the Cynic was this whackjob that used to walk around in the daytime with a lamp looking for one honest man. Never found one. Honesty’s easy when you got nuthin on the line. Y’find out who’s honest and who’s honeytounged when you do.

Now, even when I don’t wanna hear the truth, I wanna hear it.

Me: Why do I feel you’re not being honest with me?

Her: (pause) Because I’m not. I’ve got to go. (pause) Don’t be angry. I wish everything were easier.

Man, who doesn’t? With the exception of Heartgirl, I never know if I’m making time, killin time or spending time. Can’t be a hypocrite, it cuts both ways. Still, never know if I’m the needle, the thread or the button til it’s all over.

Speaking of Heartgirl, she’s going away for a bit. I’ll miss her. Interestingly, she may actually have said something nice to me recently.

Me: It’s not like you like me for my brains.

Her: It’s why I like you.

Me: For the first time ever, I’m confused as to whether or not you’re being sarcastic.

Man, I wish I knew how my stories end.

Categories
dating personal

Waiting for the Right Scene / Hardest way to Travel

 

 

PCD: (turning to me) That’s not true, I haven’t kissed anyone else in a long time.
Me: Really? How long?
Her: A whole week.
Me: (quizzical look)
Her: (turning back to TV) When you stop kissing other people so will I.

My friend Joanne said once that dating past your 30s is like that board game Scene It. In the first part of the game, if you get something wrong, there’s no penalty. In the second part, you’re penalized for each wrong answer. She said that dating up to 30 is like the first part and dating past your 30s is like the second part.

Spoke to Heartgirl recently. Like HEI, she’s become what I’d consider a close friend. Well, as close a friend as I guy like me has. She thinks I’m going about this wrong, the random dating and whatnot. But I’ve done the serial monogamy thing for 16 years. It doesn’t work for me.

Without a hint of arrogance, I believe that whomever ends up with me is a lucky girlie. Cause I’m whip-smart. Given lead time to prep and the right jeans, I’m easy on the eyes. Have fairly good manners. Can cook.

Most of all, though, I’m loyal. For that girl, I can say, I’m yours. I’ve gotten it outta my system. 130+ dates later, I’m good to go. I choose you.

And yeah, I’m old, weird, clumsy, nerdy, insominatic – the list goes on. No lie, whenever there’s money left over for rum after a mortgage payment, it’s like Christmas morning.

But I know what I bring to the table. SX once asked me what entertainment I’d provide and responded, “I am the entertainment.”

One should know one’s value. Cause if your cup of self worth is only half full, why would anyone else see any more than that, y’know?

In other news, the woman I love the most in the world is on a plane to bury the woman she loves most in the world.

There’s no harder way to travel than with a broken heart. It takes 22 hours to get from here to there. That’s a long time to spend with your thoughts. If I could take that cross from her, I would.

 

Location: in front of a glass of rum
Mood: sigh
Music: Got no place to go but there’s a girl waiting for me

Categories
personal

Useless / Outta time

I feel so useless these days

Sorry, those of you that read me know I’m pretty regular about my postings but this week’s been…hard. Don’t think I had one sober night this week. Heartgirl took me to a fine restaurant, PCD took me out and made me carrot cake, and BEG rang me. They’re all such good people. It’s funny who contacts you and who doesn’t. Slept about four hours a night.

Told you before that A man’s dying is more the survivors’ affair than his own.

I think I’m fairly quick-witted. Rain’s faster on the draw but I hold my own. S’what happens when you read as much as a nerd like me. But I dunno what to say to my own mother. Isn’t that a kick in the head?

Sucks when you realize a particular talent you have’s only good for entertainment purposes.

The irony of this whole thing is that my mom just came back from Taiwan two days before my grandma died. Now she’s gotta go back.

Her: I didn’t know she was gonna go. (pause) I woulda stayed if I knew.
Me: One of us (kids) should go back with you.
Her: No, it’s useless. She’s gone. You called her all the time. That meant a lot to her. (pause) You’re a good kid.

She doesn’t know that I stopped calling her after the theft cause I didn’t want her to worry. Stupid. I thought we had time. Goddamit, I thought I had time. No one told me we were outta time.

Gonna add that to my list of ten thousand regrets.

Gonna need more damn paper.

Location: my office, beat tired
Mood: beat tired
Music: you wake up in it One fine day

Categories
dating personal

All good things come to an end

 

Him: What’s the point of dating her if it’s not going anywhere?
Me: All relationships end. Some just end sooner than others.

Anthropologist Ernest Becker once said that Everything that man does in his symbolic world is an attempt to deny and overcome his grotesque fate.

All relationships end. And all relationships that matter end in tears. It’s just the way it goes. There’s nothing you adore now, that you can hold now, that you won’t lose at some point down the line. Either because it goes – or you go. It’s all ashes and dust and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it.

And it doesn’t matter how you go, yeah? Someone’ll wish you didn’t.

Writers try and cheat the end we know is coming. It’s our sad way of staying longer than we should. Because I’ve tricked you, you see. I’ve made you think of me.

My grandmother passed away. I’m heartbroken.

Please don’t say, I’m sorry. Tell me something funny or interesting. Cause I gotta go home and dunno what to say to my mom.

I’m a crap writer. I’ve run outta words.

Location: my office
Mood: heartbroken
Music: the sun was wondering if it should stay away for a day til the feeling went away

Categories
personal

You are a soul

You can’t sell your soul, you are a soul

Me: I’m sorry, come again? How old’re you?
Her: 18.
Me: (turning to WM) Yeah, I’m leaving.

Spent Friday out with Gio and WM around the UES. Not my scene.

Saturday morning, spoke with Heartgirl; that’s a post for some other time. Saturday night, saw PCD. She did NOT heed my advice and was hung over so we spent a very nice quiet night in the UWS.

Unfortunately, while writing this, I just found out that my grandma’s in the hospital. Was supposed to see her when that woman stole all my money.

You know when someone talks about selling your soul, or whatnot? That irritates me. Cause you’re not a body with a soul. You are a soul. You just happen to have a body.

My grandmother is no dainty grandma; she’s tougher than DeNiro and smokes more than he does.

But her body is betraying her and there’s nuthin I can do about it. She gave me my eyes.

I wanna hit something.

Location: in front of three computers
Mood: worried
Music: No need to say goodbye You’ll come back
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Categories
personal

Blessed are the forgetful

Her: I forget a lot of things.
Me: I envy you. Nietzsche once said, “Blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders.” I never forget anything.  But I’m working on that.
Her: I’d never want to remember everything. That’d be terrible.
Me: (nodding) It’s why I’m an insomniac.

Caligirl’s getting married.

For my longtime readers, she was also the girl in this entry. She’s everything I’m looking for in a girlie. Yet I don’t love her. Least, not in the way she wants. Dunno why that is, but that’s as it is.

As a kid, I remember reading about Soma in A Brave New World and wondering why anyone would wanna forget stuff. Not a kid anymore. There’s no Soma in NYC. There’s no River Lethe. That part I knew. But I’m also finding that there’s no SING. No girl on the east side missing a heart.

There are, however, any number of fine (and not so fine) drinking establishments in the big city where they’ll serve me my favorite poison on the rocks with a big slice of orange for $14 a glass.

I know cause I went to two of them Wednesday and Thursday nights with any number of girlies, some very random, some very specific. The weekend forecast looks similar. They’ll have to do.

Suspect I’m not invited to the wedding.

I’m an insomniac cause I lie awake remembering. I’m so talented at it that I even remember things that never happened, people that never existed.

Location: 10:00-14:00 yest, all over Manhattan
Mood: calm
Music: Why so scared of romance?

Categories
personal

A Tale of Two Conversations

Me: You ever read Tale of Two Cities? Charles and Sydney look alike and both love Lucie. But Lucie loves Sydney. Sydney’s arrested and about to be killed when Charles appears and takes Sydney’s place. So Charles asks, why would you do that for me? And Sydney goes, I’m not doing it for you; I’m doing it for her.
Him: If I break up with her, it’ll kill her.
Me: If you marry her cause you feel obligated to – that’d kill her. (pause) If you really do care about her, cut her loose. Then again, what do I know? Sometimes, you do the right thing and you hate yourself. Sometimes, you do the wrong thing and you hate yourself. After a while, you just get used to hating yourself. Hence, rum.

Caligirl: But I realize that there is something we have in common.
Me: And that is?
Her: (softly) Don’t you see it? I’m seeing someone else. PCD’s seeing other people, BEG’s seeing someone, the accountant never wants to get married and Heartgirl’s unavailable. You like the ladies you can’t have. Cause it saves you from the messy things. From having to look someone in the eye and telling them that you’re not the guy. (contemptuously) You’re such a sad and pathetic person, Logan.
Me: (pause) You’re in rare form today.
Her: I try, Logan. (pause) I saw that pretty blond at your birthday party and I knew you’d ____ it up. Just like you always do. You’re terrible at your two rules. What are you looking for?
Me: Something I can’t put into words. What you’re saying, has the ring of truth, but isn’t true at all.
Her: I wonder if you really believe all the crap you say. (pause) I hope you get your heart broken. Into a million little _____ pieces. Put this conversation in your sad little blog.
Me: I’ll take that under advisement.

Funny thing is, sometimes you forget why, exactly, you hate yourself but you get so used it to doing it that you keep doing it.

Location: 22:00 yest, parrying a dagger in the UWS
Mood: pensive
Music: A little less conversation, a little more action please

Categories
personal

Between the lines

Her: My one problem is that I like boys with brown eyes but I want kids with blue eyes.
Me: Not up to date on Mendel but I’m thinking that won’t happen with a guy like me.

 

Thursday, meet up with WM and chat with Stephen, the bartender. His recipes for drinks are on Fine Living here.

Friday, see PCD – it’s nastier than summer’n hell so we stay in and rent In Bruges – not good. So we stop it and see Dr. Horrible online instead – so good! Make cole slaw and almost bogart the whole thing myself.

Her: Well, we’re both busy. I mean we’re seeing 700 other people.
Me: FIVE! I’m seeing five other people.
Her: (rolling eyes) I meant the two of us together are seeing 700 other people…

Saturday afternoon, go to the gym and get rocked. Take 16 tabs of ibuprofen, shower and dash down to see Heartgirl for dinner on the west side.

We get into a tiff because she misunderstands me – don’t wanna complicate things for her; her life’s complicated enough.

Me: People have done that to me. Hung around with me telling me that we’ll be friends when actually they’re just hoping that I’ll change my mind and like them in the way they want. It’s terrible. (pause) I won’t do that to you.
Her: (nodding) Yeah. (later) Don’t you dare put what we talked about in your blog, Logan.
Me: (stopping) What?!
Her: (turns and walks away) I hear things.
Me: (muttering) I’ve gotta change my name.

Walk her to her subway stop and then check my phone. 1AM. Early yet. Walk over to Maru and see old friends. It’s 3AM when I stumble home.

Sunday, am supposed to see Pretty Jenny but I screw up the times. Instead see family for an early dinner around the way. Heading home, run into a waitress I know who grabs my arm and pulls me in. The triathlon just ended and she’s in a good mood so she buys me a Bud.

Chit-chat before dashing off to church. The hazy heat pulls me into a hazy headspace and I daydream of conversations from the weekend before I snap back to reality. I’m ever between the lines.

Strolling home, a pretty lady sits on my stoop. She stands, smiles and waves at me. I laugh and invite her in.

Location: 6:20 – bed, doing situps
Mood: hella hot
Music: Too late, two choices to stay or to leave