Tag: family

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personal

Cupcakes for brekkie

A small kindness

Been doing all sorts of activities to try to keep the boy entertained.

He’s happy to not be in school but misses his friends.

So, I just baked a whole crapton of almond flour chocolate cupcakes and cake for him, just to cheer him up and so he would have something tasty and, relatively speaking, nutritious.

Several of the boy’s classmates also have COVID, so we’ve worked out our own little pod system where they rotate time with each of us.

It’s better than nuthin.

Little girl: I’m bored.
Me: Wonderful! I have math problems for you to do.
Her: Noooooo! We’ll read.
Me: Good choice.

As always, May’s a pretty awful month for me in general. I still hate May.

Alison was born in May. She died in May. Mother’s Day is May.

It’s like, one hit after another.

On a smaller, but more annoying, note, it turns out that allergy season peaks in May as well. Of course.

Somehow, though, I feel that this May will be more manageable – emotionally, at least – than previous Mays.

One thing that really gave me a sigh of relief was when the kid’s teacher wrote to say that they wouldn’t be doing Mother’s Day or Father’s Day this year but “Family Day.”

Evidently, I’m not the only parent in the class that has an unconventional family.

I wrote her a short thank you and she wrote back that she was glad she could help in some small way to give me one less thing to stress about.

It’s the small kindnesses that I think I value the most.

Him: Can I have a cupcake for breakfast?
Me: A muffin is just a naked cupcake so, sure, why not?
Him: You’re the best papa, ever!
Me: This may well be true.

Location: in the gym for the first time in a while
Mood: hesitant
Music: you are my sunrise on the darkest day, got me feelin’ some kind of way (Spotify)
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It’s always something

But at least he’s happy

Client: Did you finish [the work]?
Me: Shoot, no, my entire weekend and this week got shot. I can get it to you this afternoon. I’ve just gotta get a few things done right now. Is 4PM too late?
Him: That’ll be ok.

The kid’s eczema is somewhat under control in the sense that it’s gone from pretty darn bad to just bad.

Whereas before, it was the entirety of his lower back, arms, and back of legs, it’s now somewhat localized to just his arms. It still keeps him up at night, scratching, though. It’s painful for both of us – in very different ways.

Found myself sitting outside his room, hoping that he won’t call me to come in and help.

Fortunately, the oatmeal baths, a crapton of homemade oatmeal cookies/bars/pancakes/cereal and constant moisturizing seem to have helped matters a great deal.

But, of course, it’s always something.

He got COVID.

I’ve been taking COVID tests every few days because I’ve been coughing my head off for months. All negative.

I think that – back when I got COVID in 2020 – it really messed up my lungs without my realizing it. Had really light allergies that basically meant a consistent but light cough and that was about it.

Now, when the pollen count is high, I’m in misery. Coughing, sneezing, itchy eyes/throat, etc.

Misery.

To the point that, during gym class, Chad literally has to stop teaching for a moment because I’m coughing so much.

Him: I’m trying to time it.

Of course, considering that my dad died of lung cancer, there’s that concern as well. But I note that, when pollen counts are low, I tend to be fine.

When they’re high, sometimes I’m fine, most times I’m not.

Right now, I wanna crawl into bed and just sleep everything off.

Anywho, regarding the kid, I wasn’t planning on having him take a COVID test because – eczema aside – he’s just totally normal: High energy, bright-eyed and bushy tailed.

But he was supposed to see the ABFF’s kids over the three-day weekend so, outta an abundance of caution, I gave us both a test.

As always, mine was negative but I was floored when his was positive.

That set off a flurry of emails, texts, and calls to rearrange a whole bevy of things and give notice to a raft of people.

Me: I have to cancel this week, I…
Her: If you don’t want to see me, stop wasting my time.
Me: It’s not that, I… <CLICK> Well, that worked itself out…

Least of which is the Counselor as we’ve been playing phone, text, and date-tag for the past few days because we’re both so busy.

Me: I’m on daddy duty all week as my son’s not allowed back into school until Friday. COVID. So, XXXX may well be out. I’m hoping he’ll be negative for my sitter at [some point]. We’ll play it by ear?
Counselor: Woooow. Sheesh it really is everywhere again. And it’s fine.

Chad and I had a podcast to do just the other day, which I arranged for the kid to be safely away at that time, and we did quite well, I thought.

Him: I got bad news.
Me: Oh no, what?
Him: The video didn’t record. Something happened on their end. We gotta do it again.
Me: Well, of course we do.

Dammit. It’s always something.

At least the kid’s happy.

Him: No school?! All week?! YAAAY! No school! No school! No school!
Me: Yeah. Yay.
Him: No school! No school! No school!
Me: (nodding, slowly)

Location: home, obvs
Mood: so damn tired
Music: gimme some sign. I think that we’re supposed to be (Spotify)
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Bringing the kiddie gang to Koreatown

Shoehorned

Because I’ve been out so much lately, I decided that I should take the boy out with his friends at least once.

To this end, I invited my SIL and ABFF and her kids to head out to eat Korean food in Koreatown.

Chose Koreatown because (a) I love Korean food and (b) it was kinda the middle point for alla us.

Unfortunately, because we all met up at 6PM, the place was packed so we had a choice: We could either sit upstairs on the fifth floor sans alcohol and be seated immediately or sit on the second floor, get alcohol but wait 45 minutes for a table.

We chose the former. And by “we,” I mean “they.”

Her: You know, you can eat without drinking, Logan.
Me: Tenuous.

It was pretty nice, though. We essentially had most of the floor to ourselves, save for a couple here or there.

The kids were pretty well-behaved, all things considered. Think they found the whole idea of having a BBQ in the middle of a table kinda interesting.

Her: Why don’t you just order for us?
Me: Way ahead of you.

I ended up ordering waaaay too much food. Forgot that half the table was comprised of children so, for the first time ever, I brought some food home.

Her: Wait, there’s more food?
Me: It’s fine.
Son: Papa will eat it. He eats everything.
Me: Thanks?

Afterward, we went to get pastries across the street.

Pac’s mom has a noodle shop – Noona Noodles – on the ground floor there and I was going to stop by to say hello but the whole place, including her restaurant, was a madhouse.

Suppose people are just super jazzed that the pandemic restrictions are easing substantially.

But, back to the story, it turns out they food court we ended up at shoehorned two small karaoke rooms off to the side.

My son heard the music and couldn’t help but go, watch, and sing along.

Me: Can you imagine if you were singing and you looked down and saw a little boy looking at you sing through that window?
Her: That’s hilarious.

Everyone was full and happy at the end.

As for me, I was totally sober, which was the first night in a while where I could say such a thing.

But there’s always tomorrow.

Me: Well, my major issue’s that Trump’s such a pussy.
Purple: Ugh. Why would you use that word? “Pussy.” It’s vulgar and sexist.
Me: (rolling eyes) It’s derived from the word “pusillanimous,” which means “timid” or “weak.” Google it.
Her: (later) It’s not clear. It either comes from that or from the word “pussycat.”
Me: Both of which have nuthin to do with the female anatomy.
Her: See! You knew that’s what people think.
Me: (shrugging) Most people think that we have five senses, they’re wrong.
Her: Wait, what?

Location: this past weekend, spending $60 for 18 dumplings around the way and wondering why
Mood: hungry for dumplings or Korean BBQ
Music: [see above, this song doesn’t exist anywhere but Spotify, which I find hella annoying]
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Taking it apart

My pretty but dead dreams

I built that crib with Alison on September 13th, 2015. She was in her last trimester at the time and insisted that she help but I had her just direct for the most part.

Seven years later, I finally took it apart.

Well, not me, a fella from my gym that helps us out with stuff. I couldn’t do it.

Just like when my friends came by to paint it at the height of COVID two years ago, it was just something that I kept putting off.

Alison took that picture above, almost as a joke. I didn’t know she had brain cancer at that moment.

Put it off for two things, really.

One was Alison, of course. She was a part of that crib, just like she was a part of how that room used to look. The other was that I think I was hoping that maybe Mouse and I might have a kid of our own.

But they’re both gone now and the kid deserves to have a bed that matches his age instead of me clinging onto all my pretty, but dead, dreams.

When my buddy left, I sat down to finish the bottle of rum I’ve had sitting on my countertop.

I always have a bottle of fine aged rum on my countertop.

But, I decided against it and put it back. Had a cup of tea instead.

Baby steps, yeah?

Do you see the little boy’s outfit hanging on the closet knob in the background?

For a while now, I’ve been giving a lot of the kid’s clothes to Mouse to send off to her relative in the Ukraine.

The kid last wore that in December of 2019, when we went to that Christening in NJ. I always thought the kid looked adorbs in it.

That was something that I’d been meaning to give her for some time now, along with some other stuff for them, but I just hadn’t gotten around to it.

The thought that there’s some little boy running around in Ukraine, scared and confused, younger than my own kid, wearing my kid’s clothes, bothers me in a way I can’t fully express except to say that it’s fucking bullshit.

He’d be the same age as my kid was in that pic above.

It’s bullshit that some innocent kid has to pay for a billionaire’s greed for more fucking money.

I wonder if he’s dressed in one of my son’s outfits now. It bothers me because – but for time and tide – that couldn’ve been my kid.

Well, I guess I could express it, after all…

Doesn’t make it any less bullshit. Maybe I should have that drink after all.

 

Her: Why didn’t you tell me you were in LA? I would have seen you.
Me: I know. I had a lot going on. Have.
Her: What’s new? You’ll see me next time, though, yes?
Me: Of course, darling. Promise.
Her: (laughing) You and your promises.

Location: earlier today, waiting for the pool shower
Mood: trying to stay in the golden mean
Music: I don’t really feel bad news anymore (Spotify)
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My silly little blog

I’m Home

Her: OK, here’s the deal. You can have your silly little blog, just don’t mention me. And if you do want to mention me, just…don’t.
Me: (nodding) My silly little blog and I appreciate the accommodation.

It feels weird writing about my silly little life in the face of truly jaw-dropping world events.

Don’t recall being glued to the news as much as I have recently, outside of when 9/11 happened.

Things feel the same. I suppose that’s a post for the future but I just wanna wrap up a few loose ends from my last few posts.

I’ve had some version of this blog since 2005, with 2006.09.17 being my first entry here.

In that time, I’ve had a handful of people mad at me for something I wrote about them but that would happen like once a year, if that. Alison got mad at me for maybe one or two entries, total.

But in the past two weeks, I’ve had no less than four people mad about something I wrote. Even when I use pseudonyms and don’t post identifiable pictures, they’re still upset.

So, unless I get clear OKs to write about someone, I’m just not going to mention other people at all.

Him: Yeah, I’d appreciate that.
Me: Hokay.

Part of the reason I went out to California was to try and track down a friend that disappeared after COVID went down.

He’s pretty wealthy and well-connected, but intensely private, and just *poof* disappeared one day.

I’ve tried all my regular means of reaching him to no avail so I ended up heading out to LA to try and meet up with a woman I know he orbited around once. That didn’t go well.

Me: I’m in LA, if you’re free.
Her: Good for you. I’m not. You should have thought this out better.
Me: Evidently. Look, I just wanna know if he’s alive.
Her: How would I know, Logan? Let it go.
Me: This is going well.

On the flip side, a fella I knew from NYC was also in LA, purely by happenstance.

Me: What are you doing here? I thought you were in Nicaragua.
Him: My buddy called and said the house next to his was on the market so I bought it.
Me: Man, it must be good to have that kinda scratch. You free for lunch on Monday?
Him: Sure, let’s do it.

We ended up meeting around my brother’s pad. He’d never been to that part of the town so we met up and ordered a plate of food called “The Family Table” that was supposed to feed a family of four.

Me: This is not gonna be enough food.

We ended up ordered The Family Table, two large specialty rolls, and two other dishes.

 

He’s a guy that sold several companies to Google and Facebook but studied a lotta philosophy.

We spent the entire time arguing about the ethics of having children.

It was one of the more interesting and enlightening conversations I’ve had in my life but, in light of everyone that got mad at me for writing about them in my blog, I’ll just leave it at that.

Was still hungry afterward and ended up buying some pastries before heading back to my brother’s.

Spent the rest of the time eating and working on some things that’ve been percolating in my brain for a while.

I just needed to get somewhere else to figure it all out.

The morning I was going back, I order $40 worth of food at Lucky Boy, including a foot-long chili dog with chili and onions, another large bag of onion rings, a breakfast burrito with carne asada and a fish burrito for my brother.

This was my brekkie; those yellow logs are like 10 inches long.

It was the first time in ages – ages – that I couldn’t finish everything.

Also, I realized that I was gonna be in a tube for the next six hours and eating all that food was probably not the best idea.

Me: I have made a terrible miscalculation here.

BUT the trip back ended up being uneventful. I wrote my mother-in-law that I had a cast-iron stomach.

Even I couldn’t believe I didn’t have a gastronomic accident in the air.

Ended up hopping the LIRR back and was home in less than an hour.

Me: I’m home! (sighing) I’m home.

Location: earlier today, playing tag with the boy
Mood: gutted
Music: I just thought I would have you all my life (Spotify)
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The Golden Mean

A last-minute weekend trip out to LA

Me: I have to go away for a few days.
Her: Why?
Me: I need to quiet my head. And see about a friend.
Her: You’re going to travel across the country for that? Are you insane?
Me: (shrugging) Depends on who you ask.

Before meeting Alison, I spent several years working on the Golden Mean, which is a philosophical pursuit where you try and cut out the highs and lows from your life.

Lisa Simpson summed it up best:

Obviously, you understand why one would want to cut out the lows but cutting out the highs is also necessary because, well, what goes up, must come down.

Man, that crash is rough when it happens. And it always happens.

Anywho, after meeting Alison, the Golden Mean was all but impossible because our lows were so very low. The past six or seven years have been a rollercoaster of emotions.

It’s time to get off.

Too much was happening in NYC: I just got injured (again), several people were mad at me (again), and I was dealing with too much emotion (again).

So, I rang my brother, hoping to reset.

Me: Can I crash with you for a few days?
Him: Sure.
Me: OK. I’ll catch the next flight to you.

A few hours later, I was up at 5AM. The night before, I spoke to a friend.

Her: You’re going to take a cab to the airport, right?
Me: Well…
Her: Logan, you’re not taking the subway to JFK that early. You read the papers. Take a cab.

Of course, I took the subway at 5:30 AM.

But, because of track-work, it turns out that the train I needed wasn’t running. At all.

So, I transferred to another train, and then another one, and then another one.

Finally, because of my latest injury, I gave up and hopped out somewhere in Queens and a cab was literally right outside the station when I came out – not another soul about.

It was kismet.

Him: Where to?
Me: (hopping in) JFK.
Him: Oh, where are you going?
Me: To see my brother, maybe find an old friend of mine, and see the California sun.

Made it to the airport and past the insanely long security check with just ten minutes to spare.

That’s not entirely true; my flight was delayed.

Which is fine because my ankle was very unhappy with me. Eventually, I boarded and sat next to a pretty lady and we chatted for a bit.

Her: What do you do?
Me: Drink and daydream about my possible pasts. You?

Six hours later, I arrived in LA. My brother picked me up.

Him: How was your trip?
Me: (hopping in) Not the best. But I’m glad to be here.
Him: Wanna pick up some Lucky Boy? Onion rings?
Me: Sure. Get the large onions rings.
Him: That’s waaayy too many onion rings.
Me: It’ll be fine.

It was waaayy too many onion rings.

That white bag is fulla huge onion rings. Huge.

Location: earlier today, trying to pass a guard in Union Square
Mood: in the Golden Mean
Music: LA – I’ll stay long enough to say I tried (Spotify)
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Parenting Drama Pt 2 – Educate the Children

It’s French

I’m sure you remember the Pythagorean theorem from grammar school.

But, Pythagoras was also a philosopher, with a quote I’ve always liked: Educate the children and it won’t be necessary to punish the men.

Obvs, let’s make it gender neutral.

That’s kinda how I look at my responsibility when it comes to teaching this kid. If I screw it up, he’ll bear the punishment for my failures, not me. Can’t have that.

On the flip side, though, I wonder if I’m too strict. Spoke to my mom not that long ago:

Her: I think you’re too hard on him.
Me: I’m too hard on him?! Have you met you? You were super hard on us.
Her: Noooooo.
Me: You’ve got to be kidding me.
Her: (ignoring me) He’s such a good boy. Be easier on him.
Me: What planet am I on right now?

Now, before we went to the party together last weekend, I was supposed to have a sitter come in for part of the day but she totally flaked with on me, first with this excuse:

Her next text was saying the snow was too much. Very annoying.

But, the boy and I ended up having a really fun time the whole weekend, starting out in Central Park with his classmates.

And the next day, it was literally just him and me in this playground the entire morning.

Man, being a parent is stressful. Dunno if any of these choices I’m making are the right ones, but I hope they are.

Him: I’m bore…
Me: Don’t say it! Don’t say it.
Him: Fiiiiine. I’m going to play my ukulele. (walks away)
Me: (under breath) Just don’t start a band, drop out of school, and become a musician.
Him: What?
Me: I said, have fun!

Mouse was in the city, so she and I grabbed dinner around the way. Purely as friends.

Me: You drove all the way in so, obviously, my treat.
Her: French/Japanese. Something flavorful.

We ended up going to the same bistro I went to the other day with Chad and friends.

Me: A Croque Madame is essentially a grilled cheese with ham and an egg.
Her: That’s an insane price for a grilled cheese.
Me: (shrugging) It’s French.

We went to a bar around the way, but it was closed so we went to another bar down the street.

It was late when she went home.

Once wrote that I was never friends with a serious ex.

But I’m trying new things because we’re both part of the fabric of each other’s lives. Still, it’s complicated.

Her: Get out.
Me: (sighing) Hokay, I’ll try again tomorrow.

Ended up having a completely sleepless night because I’m not used to eating or drinking at night – I’m still doing intermittent fasting so I rarely consume anything after 6PM.

Just as well.

The Acrobat: What are you up to?
Me: Talking to you, evidently.

Location: earlier today, in the third nicest apartment I’ve ever been in. This time, right outside the gym
Mood: so fulla carbs, you wouldn’t believe
Music: classy girls don’t kiss in bars, you fool (Spotify)
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Parenting Drama Pt 1

Dude!

My son’s picking up some interesting words at school.

Him: Dude! It’s so late.
Me: What? Why are you calling me dude?
Him: I dunno, dude.
Me: Well, the teenage years are gonna be rough.

That word, honestly, doesn’t bother me so much.

The word that does bother me, no end, is bored. Especially as it pertains to school.

He’s reading at a third-grade level and also doing long division while the other kids are…not.

What I don’t want for him is to be like my brother and me. If you think I’m smart, think of me as Sherlock and my brother as Mycroft – my brother’s significantly smarter than me.

There’s no comparison between the two of us, really. And I’m fine with that because he’s paid dearly for his intelligence. But that’s his story, not mine.

Still, my kid is far more like my brother than me. Which worries me.

I was pretty unhappy as a kid. My brother was miserable.

In any case, stuff my kid said caught the ear of his teacher, who had to contact the guidance counselor, who then contacted me. It was the start of a series of annoying meetings.

Teacher: I just want you to know, he’s the happiest kid I know. I don’t think he’s upset, I think he’s just bo..
Me: Bored. He’s looking to stir things up.
Her: Yes. But I’m required to tell the counselor.
Me: I get it.

Guidance Counselor: Mr. Lo, your son is just the most adorable kid! Can I say that?
Me: I think you just did.
Her: (later) I don’t think he means it. I think he’s just a little bo…
Me: Bored. Yup. He’s looking to stir things up.
Her: Yes. Would you consider putting him in the G&T classes?
Me: Absolutely not. Absolutely not. I want him normal. I want him to have a normal life. I don’t want that for him.

So, what to do? I knew this was gonna happen, which is why I look at school as teaching him social skills.

I’ll teach him math, science, English, history, and everything else he needs to know. I just need him in school to keep him socially normal.

As for the boredom, I’ve been bringing the kid with me to my jits classes here and there. I just want to acclimate him to the life.

Last Friday, Mouse was there and was nice enough to offer us a lift back.

Watching the two of them talk is just the sweetest thing. Because she’s just so good at connecting with him.

Her: Were you just trying to be different?
Him: (laughing) Yeah…

They have a really sweet and special bond and I’m grateful for that.

It was really nice to spend time seeing the two of them interact, although we all had a lot more time to interact than we had expected.

Me: Shoot, there’s a ton of traffic
Her: I think there was an accident.
Him: Oh! Let I smell smoke!

Of course, we were hoping everyone was alright.

I brought him in to watch TV for a bit and stepped outside to chat with Mouse in the car.

Thought about the possible pasts again, as you might imagine.

Me: Thanks for the lift home.
Her: Sure.

Location: earlier today, trying to get from 14th Street to 79th Street in 20 minutes
Mood: parental
Music: I got your back, I will be near (Spotify)
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I only have two modes

Getting Old is a Gift

A few weeks ago:

Her: Here. You want some?
Me: No, I’m good, darling.
Her: (laughing) I thought you were a lawyer, not a cop.
Me: It’s not that. I’m only have two modes: Way too much or not at all.

Decades ago, I was in a club called Club USA for work when I was called upstairs to chat with the big mucky-muck.

There was a mirrored platter – maybe it was just a mirror, I don’t remember – with a mountain of cocaine on it. They motioned for me to sit down and the fella that called me upstairs handed me a rolled-up piece of paper.

Me: No, I’m good.
Him: What are you, a cop?
Me: No. I had some earlier and I don’t wanna overdo it.

That was a bald-faced lie, I was just scared.

The clubs were always swimming in drugs but I never took any because I was a club producer not a club consumer. But I was certain I’d be seen as what I thought myself to be: A fake and a poser.

After what seemed to be forever, the main guy looked at me and…

Him: (slowly nodding) Never had one of you say no. It’s good to know your limits, kid. So, what’s your offer?

And that was the start of my twenties in NYC, which were pretty nuts. Too bad I didn’t have a blog back then.

Funny thing is, a fella joined my gym earlier this week and brought up Rain, who did have a blog during that crazy time.

Him: …I was part of all that. Like AsianAvenue.
Me: (laughing) Do you remember Rain?
Him: Wait, you’re Logan from Bachelor Cooking?
Me: That was a lifetime ago, but yeah.

Thought about that because I got an invite to a party thrown by my friends around the way.

Last time, it was me and the Gymgirl at The Time Warner Center. This time, it was me and the kid on an entire floor at the Park Hyatt.

As soon as we walked in, we saw RE Mike and his wife, Maggie.

Her: OMG, that’s your son? He’s so big now! He’s adorable.
Me: It’s good, because I’m required by law to keep him another 11 years.

It was a great night – the kid sang all the songs and danced up a storm – well, until people took note of a little kid singing along to all the current pop songs.

Her: How does he know all these songs?
Me: Heck if I know, he just does.

Then he just wrapped his arms around me and asked to go back the table.

But he spent most of the night with Maggie and all the other women I knew there at the party.

Which is just as well, because I’m worried that he might be developing a gambling habit.

The funny thing is that my buddy from around the way, me, and RE Mike used to head out on the town together and hit up the clubs.

They remember when I met the German Girl at a local dive bar and any number of other random women/outings.

And now we’re having filet mignon and tuna tartare with champagne at the Park Hyatt with a live band, professional dancers, and more entertainment than you can shake a stick at.

Although, it’s good I didn’t bring any sticks to shake.

It’s also good having success models as friends.

Speaking of friends, my friend Sue wrote me recently, noting that she was sad she was getting older.

Me: I get it but I appreciate the luxury of being able to get old at all. As you know, I know too many that don’t have that. So try to be grateful that I can get old at all.
Her: You’re right, that’s something to be thankful for.

Every day is a gift.  And these gifts are even better when they’re with good and old friends.

Me: Thanks for always including us. We so appreciate it.
Her: Of course. We love you both.

And family.

Location: earlier today, at a swimming pool wondering if I should jump in
Mood: grateful
Music: You gotta wake up every morning, see the day as a gift
 (Spotify)
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Lil Rollers

Gaius Julius Caesar

Her: How did you meet your wife?
Me: (laughing) Same way I met you, darling.

My buddy is currently juggling about three or four women right now. Each one was a street pickup, which might sound crass to you, but it’s not meant to be; a street pickup simply means someone you have zero nexus with – a total stranger.

When I met Alison, she was just a beautiful girl walking into a club I was walking out of. I literally thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

Even though she was on date – with a guy called Tall Scott, which gives you some indication of what he looked like relative to 5’8″ me – I knew I had to meet her. Even if that meant I’d get socked in the face.

Best decision I ever made.

The best decision she ever made was to go on a date with Tall Scott (who, I should note, was a nice fella, but she was mine, not his).

Most people have some nexus with the person they love the most in the world with: They’re classmates, gym buddies, co-workers, something.

But a street pickup is zero nexus – it’s a complete and utter stranger.

Now, as it turned out, we ended up having a friend in common, but when we first spoke to each other, we didn’t know that.

For some reason, I’m quite proud of that fact.

Me: In one of our first conversations, I told her that Julius was Caesar’s middle name. His first name was Gaius.
Her: (laughing) I never knew that.
Me: And now you do.
Her: (later) You’re very nice. But you’re obviously still in love with your wife.
Me: I am. It’s even more complicated than you might imagine. (shrugging) I don’t think true love ever dies. And I don’t think most people would call me, “nice.”
Her: What would they call you?

Me: Did you have fun?
Him: I loved it! Can we come again tomorrow?!
Me: (laughing) Sorry, kiddo. Only once a week for us for now.
Him: Awwwwwwww!

We just recently launched our kids program that we named the Paxibellum Lil Rollers. My son was a bit apprehensive but both Chad and I were floored at just how good our buddy Mike was at teaching kids.

For example, at one point, he fell and started to cry and Mike totally brought him back and made him just fall in love with program.

Today was his second class and, when he came in, I told him Mouse might be there so he hit the mat and started running around screaming at the top of his lungs, “I wanna see Mousie!!!”

It was pretty adorbs, I gotta say.

She ended up not coming but Pez was there – she’s going to be the assistant kids coach – and the kid was thrilled to have a friend on the mats.

Afterwards, I got them all Taco Bell, just because … oh, you know…

Anywho, if you have a kid between the ages of 5 and 14 in Manhattan, bring them by our gym at 4 W 18th Street. They’ll be in great hands.

Me: Dude, he’s so good at this.
Chad: Yeah, man, he really is.

Tonight, my kali coach was late to class so I covered the first half.

It was weird teaching again. I think the last time I taught a class was maybe in 2014. And, I gotta admit, I missed it.

Chad: I’ve never seen you teach before.
Me: Really? (thinking) Oh, I guess that’s right.
Him: You’re good at it. You should do it more.
Me: Maybe someday. I got the kid. (laughing) Besides, we can’t afford me yet.

Location: home
Mood: remorseful
Music: that’s how you’ll stay. That’s why, darling (Spotify)
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