Tag: family

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personal

Having your person and your people

Girl in Subway on West 50th Street, NYC

Him: (laughing) That’s pretty funny – you have a good sense of humor. (holding out hand) My name’s Jack, this is my wife, Claire.
Me: (taking hand) Logan. And thanks. I bought it on ebay for a buck fifty.

The thing about misery is that it always comes. That parasitic fear’s parta the deal, I suppose.

For mosta my youth, did a lotta stress eating; meaning when bad things happen, end up downing anything and everything. As a young adult, did a lotta stress fighting – meaning I got into scrapes for no real good reason. But being old means I go to the gym whenever things get tough.

Been going to the gym a lot lately.

Cause people I know and love’ve been in the hospital a lot lately. Four to be exact.

They’re all gonna be fine, I think hope. But it’s stressful – after all, life’s a tragedy fulla joy.

I like wrestling and fencing cause, for 15 minutes at a time, y’think of nuthin. You just try not to get hit or choked. It’s nice to not think sometimes. Oftentimes, wish my brain would just shut off for a bit and leave me be. But it only does when I wrestle or fence. So off I go.

Last week, though, couldn’t go cause I had to be near a phone in case of emergencies. Isn’t the waiting the worst part? And so, with nuthing to slash or choke, stuffed my face like I was 12 again.

Did manage to find time to slip into a friend’s wedding where I met a buncha nice folks. It’s nice having your person and your people.

Her: You’re home. How was it?
Me: There was rum and meat, so it was great. But it’s always nice to be home.

And it is.

Even though lately I’ve been hanging out a lot in that wretched miserable space between awake and dreams, it’s slightly more bearable cause she’s here.

Like I said, it’s nice having your person and your people.

Candles on a table off Times Square, NYC

Location: at a breakfast with a dean of law
Mood: worried
Music: would I walk for a hundred miles for an instant northern smile
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dating personal

Digital to do / Insult me, beat me, make me write bad checks

Canal Street Subway

Mom: (leaning in, whispering) Act normal. I put two suitcases with your dad’s stuff into your trunk. Get rid of them.
Me: What? How?
Her: Shhh! I don’t know, don’t care. Just get rid of them. (turning to everyone, smiling) Who wants dessert?

I’ve somehow become a digital packrat in my life. My father, god love him, saves everything. Drives my mom mad. On more than one occasion, I’ll go home and find that she’s filled my trunk with random junk that my dad’s accumulated.

Suspect that if she were in the mafia, we’d have similar conversations.

Like me, she accumulates mosta her stuff in digitally. But I take after my dad in that I save everything.

Think it all started when I decided to get rid of all of my CDs years ago. Then I digitized all of my class notes from my school days. Just snowballed from there. The whole thing’d be fine it not for the fact that I didn’t organize it properly from the get-go. So now, as it gets bigger so does that sinking feeling that I gotta go back and re-edit a buncha stuff. So, to avoid procrastination, every time I get a few minutes, go back and start curating.

Amazed at how much stuff I’ve actually got.

On the topic of editing digital stuff, been reading a buncha my friends’ dating profiles for them. They’re terrible. The majority’re just bland and boring with lotsa guys putting up smiley faces every two sentences as if to say, I‘m just kidding, see how fun I am?

The worst are the ones that say, I’m just looking for someone nice. As if everyone else is saying, Insult me, beat me, make me write bad checks.

Figure there’s gotta be a cottage industry to help people not come off as weird or desperate online. Think I’ll have to write a post about writing a good profile onea these days soon.

And there’s another thing to add to my digital to do list.

Location: getting dressed in the front room
Mood: thoughtful
Music: Complacency, a vacancy, checks into your heart
YASYCTAI: Edit another folder of stuff. It’s never ending (a long time/1 pts)
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business personal

Dean Martin and the Street Where You Live

Eve: Sing it to me.
Adam: (softly, saying it as much as singing it) “All at once am I several stories high knowing I’m on the street where you live.” It’s about a young man who is overjoyed just to be standing in front of the house of the person he loves.

Everybody likes Frank Sinatra. Not me; much preferred Dean Martin. Gotta say that his version of On the Street Where You Live is my favourite. Thought about it today after running all over the city.

Got home first, from a pretty busy day. Was up at 4AM. Dashed out to a breakfast at the Benjamin Steak House with a buncha lawyers. Nice group save for one fella who just seemed like he was in a sour mood. Found him annoying; he was the only one.

In any case, had the Eggs Benedict before hoofing it to the office. Caught a train out to Queens to another office, a haircut, lunch at the rents, another appointment at the old NY Sun offices before catching another train.

Made it back home just in time to hear her unlock the door.

———-

Like Eggs Benedicts cause my egg poaching’s not worth a damn and my Hollandaise sauce breaks enough times for me to just want someone to do it for me.

If I get enough time, gonna try and make Chicken and 40 Cloves of Garlic. Love fall. Get to cook again.

Sculpture in NYC

Location: getting ready for another busy day
Mood: weary
Music: People stop and state; they don’t bother me.
YASYCTAI: Meet more people; everyone has at least one interesting story. (2 mins/1.0 pt)
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personal

What you think is true, what you hope is true, and what is actually true

An apartment in the UWS, NYC

Had a really interesting few days.

Firstly, randomly walked by a buncha workers and tossed them few hundred to paint my apartment. Totally spur of the moment. Looks great.

Anywho, dunno if I ever told you but I’ve had a real estate broker’s license since I was like 19. Some years, used it a lot; other years, not at all. Just rented a place less than 24 hours after the first showing. About half the people I showed it to said that the unit looked just like the pictures in my ad and that it was accurately described.

Which brings me to my other occupation; I work for a litigator who recently told me that, A Few Good Men jokes aside, the truth is the most powerful thing in a courtroom.

If all of my random dating has taught me anything, it’s that people sense and want truth. They crave it.

They know, on some level, what’s true and what’s for sale.

Which then brings me to an issue I’m having with one of my oldest and dearest friends. He’s got two email addresses, one personal, one work. He’s asked that I use one over the other for work related matters, which I’ve obliged.

However, the issue’s that emails to that address are never answered in a timely manner – in fact there have been several times where he’s dropped the ball completely. So another email has to be sent saying, “Did you get my email?” which also goes unread resulting in a phone call. Thus a one-minute question becomes a long drawn out affair.

After the very last time he promised me that he’d set up a forward to make sure he gets emails. And again it happens. So I told him that I’d never send another email to that address.

Now he’s upset with me.

Which’s odd, cause he takes no responsibility for failing to follow-through, it’s my fault that I now, a year later, refuse to write him there any more. He’s essentially saying, “All those other times I said that I’d read them? I was totally not being honest with myself or you. But this time? This time, I’m gonna read them.”

But there’s a difference between the lies you tell yourself, wishful thinking without action, and the truth.

Put another way: there’s a difference between what you think is true, what you hope is true, and what is actually true.

The three are not the same.

———-

My oldest and closest friend turns 40 today. I wish you courage.

Cause with courage, coupled with hope and a dash of empathy, you’ve got mosta what you need to get through this life unbroken.

Friends, cold hard cash, and rum do not hurt either.

So I guess what I’m really saying is that I wish you courage, hope, empathy, friends, cold-hard cash and rum.

Actually, rum will help with most of the above.

Lemme revise my thought then; I wish you rum.

Happy getting one-year-older-but-also-one-year-better day!

 

Location: sitting next to Diego
Mood: less busy, finally
Music: Come listen to my truest thoughts, my truest feelings
YASYCTAI: Pick up a new book; how are you on your reading schedule? (2 days/1 pt)
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business personal

Quiet summer weekends in New York City

View of Bryant Park Grill, NYC

Friday had lotsa meetings lined up, onea which was with an old work associate. Ended up being a three hour meeting. In a nutshell, he got screwed. I’d fight hard for any client but even more so when it’s a friend.

As an odd twist, on an unrelated point, his old boss was the CEO of a Fortune 100 company – and a kid that I went to elementary and junior high school with. We both knew each other because we were in the nerd group. It’s like being in the cool group except the complete opposite of everything and no one calls you except to get homework assignments.

Me: Tell him you know Fatlogan.
Him: They really called you that?
Me: (laughing) That or Whaleboy. Ask him and see. He’ll remember me only because I was the second fattest kid in the whole school and always wore the same four shirts.

I wonder if he talks like a kid from Queens.

Afterward, my boss and I grabbed some food and rum over at The Bryant Park Grill. Then more rum at the Cellar Bar. And then more rum at Salute. He thinks I’m good at what I do. It’s nice to hear. Even nicer when there’s rum involved.

Two glasses of water at Bryant Park Grill, NYC

Saturday, HG and I rented a whip and made it out to Staten Island for some family stuff. Spoke to HG’s cousin for a bit.

Her: I think that when people have kids, they’ll be a lot like they were.
Me: Then that means my kids’ll be pantsed a lot.

It was a nice drive there and back. Afterward, the wife and stopped by to get some frozen yoghurt at a new joint down from us called 16 Handles. Afterward, we lumbered home.

Me: It was a nice weekend.
Her: It was. But it’s good to be home.

Glass of rum on the rocks with a thick slice of orange at Salute! NYC

Location: sweating at a wooden desk
Mood: dreading the heat
Music: the future could it be the good old days
YASYCTAI: Keep cool – it’s a scorcher today. (24 hours/1 pt)
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personal

Feeling like a wealthy adult

View east from Lincoln Center

The weather’s been relatively cool this summer; my running joke’s that in NYC, we go from Winter straight into Summer without a stop in Spring. This year, however, we’ve had spring and there’ve been several nice accompanying days.

Stopped by my old law school to pick up some things and it’s a bit shocking to me that it’s been 15 years since I first walked through those doors. It still smells the same. Smells are the first things I ever remember.

View east from Lincoln Center

Speakinga remembering and smells, saw my mom and dad along with some uncles and aunts this past weekend. HG and I headed out to Flushing where we met up with them in the same restaurant we went to for our Chinese wedding. Somea my relatives were in Asia at the time and they wanted to meet my wife.

Still feels strange writing the word, “wife.”

We took the train out there insteada the subway. It was my first time ever. Afterward, HG went home first so I could get a haircut. My thoughts and I took the 3:06 train to Penn Station.

S’funny, you can live in a place your entire life and never see it from a particular angle. Been to five-star hotels on private beaches in Nantes, suites in luxury ships off the coast of Denmark, private celebrity parties, and expensive fund-raisers. But being on a $12.50 train ride with HG made me feel wealthy and picking up the tab for lunch made me feel like an adult. Silly, isn’t it?

Finally, it’s supposed to be 95 degrees today.

Well, that’s the end of that.

Location: getting ready to get to the bank
Mood: cool, for now
Music: oh, this has gotta be the good life
YASYCTAI: Buy something nice for yourself that makes you feel wealthy. (1 min/1 pt)
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personal

Wedding Celebration 4

 

Entering the Parlour Midtown, NY.

Although HG and I wanted to keep our wedding to a minimum, we threw ourselves a little something out in Manhattan at a place called the Par. So we went from having one small thing with just the two of us and her sister, and another small thing with her parents, and another small thing with my parents to four small things.

Her: I’m so glad this is all going to be over soon. We’re so sick of ourselves!
Me: We really are.

Had set this whole thing up months ago cause it’s in the building that RE Mike owns. But when the head chef didn’t respond to repeated emails, finally called the place.

Me: Is Dave around?
Woman from space: He no longer works here
Me: Oooookay, what about the owner John?
Woman from space: He’s no longer with us either.

Insert mild freakout here.

The thing’s that y’can freak out all you want, so long as y’keep it to yourself.

After a lotta phone calls and a mad dash down there several hours before the event, was reassured that all was good. The prior owner and head chef were both nice guys. The new owner and new head chef were also nice guys. Didn’t let HG know about the snafu until long after the entire event was over.

She, my brother, and a group of friends arrived just before the party started and we all had a grand ole time. Beautiful space, killer food, open bar, all of my people, and my person. Even Metrodad made an appearance. What more could a fella ask outta a night?

Party at the Parlour Midtown, NY

My buddy Ricky and Mattman both made toasts and HG and I each made one as well, which got a laugh or two. Afterward, leaned into Heartgirl and told her that I loved her.

No party is ever over with Rain involved until he leans over to me and says, “Man, I’m so ____up.” With that our wedding celebrations ended.

Drunkenness hides no secrets.

What new adventures this week?

 

Location: not where you’d expect.
Mood: busy
Music: here we go! I’m feeling so real
YASYCTAI: Travel for yourself when you can. (days/3 pts)
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Categories
personal

Wedding Celebration 3

Wedding bouquet

Although HG and I wanted to keep our wedding to a minimum, my parents threw us a little something out in Flushing. So we went from having one small thing with just the two of us and her sister, and another small thing with her parents, to three small things.

Dad: Should I make place cards?
Me: I don’t think we need them.
Dad: How do I spell her last name?
Me: OK, you have a pen?
Dad: Yes.
Me: You ready? (pause) Here you go: L…O.

My parents had it on Friday evening out near them so we rented a car. While the weather was beautiful, it took us forever to get there; 90 minutes to travel about 14 miles. That’s the thing about the City – anytime there’s beautiful weather, everyone wants out at once, meaning mad gridlock.

UWS to Flushing, NYC

We actually went to my parents so HG could shower and change. My mother made her a bouquet of roses and gave me a boutonniere. After a flurry of activity, we arrived at the restaurant and got settled in. It was almost all my dad’s friends and relatives since my mom’s family is mostly in another state. One of my best friends, Tommy, came by as well, along with my brother and his girlie, who flew in from Cali.

Most of it was very traditional Chinese wedding fare – we brought the red and white wines, which everyone enjoyed. Suppose that a wedding banquet fulla chili and rum options’d be unseemly.

Crabs on a bed of sticky rice

Wish I took more pictures but I was too busy running around meeting and greeting. A Chinese tradition’s to give out red envelopes with money in it, which I find to be eminently practical. More people should take up that practice.

The thing about weddings’s that it’s a chance to see people you’ve known all your life in a happy setting. Some people I’d not seen in over a decade. Think HG was exhausted with all of the handshakes, hugs, and introductions. When it was over, with bellies full, she and I made our way back to the car.

Her: I’m tired.
Me: (laughing) We went from having nothing to having three things.
Her: And there’s more!

Location: home, prepping for a speech
Mood: busy
Music: Didn’t even know That love was so, so Hey
YASYCTAI: Eat some avocados – they’re apparently very good for you. (5 mins/0.5 pt)
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personal

Wedding Celebration 2

Wedding pictures

Although HG and I wanted to keep our wedding to a minimum, her parents threw us a little something out in Hoboken. So we went from having one small thing with just the two of us and her sister to two small things.

I arrived…moist. The weather was muggy with the occasional shower or two; it’s been raining all week.

Chicken on a bed of vegetables pictures

Met mosta her family before but it was nice to have a moment to sit down and actually speak with them. It’s not all of time, but usually people reflect their families and HG’s family was essentially an extension of her.

Felt very welcomed into the family.

Her dad had mentioned to her mom that wedding favors’re never for men, so as a funny aside, she got us wrenches.

Wedding wrench

When her grandma on her mom’s side was telling me a story and said, “…your grandfather…” something.

Made me laugh cause I don’t think she noticed that she said your grandfather rather than HG’s grandfather. Made me thinka my grandma too.

Sat down and spoke with her other grandma too; when I turned cause someone was taking a pic of us, she snuck in a kiss on my cheek and I laughed.

Drinks at the W Hotel

At the night’s end, went with her siblings to a hotel bar where we downed some drinks. Her brother pulled me aside and shook my hand. Welcome to the family, he said.

Me: Ah, you guys are all so nice, if I were a douchebag, you wouldn’t tell me.
Him: Oh, you’d know, you’d know.

Molten Lava Cake

Location: about to run out to pick something up
Mood: hopeful
Music: we could be married and then we’d be happy
YASYCTAI: Call a relative; time just goes by so fast. (5 mins/1 pt)
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Categories
business personal

Signal versus noise: My plans, my pad, my people, my poison, and my person

From my sis regarding my mom. Except for the Vietnamese and the fact nonea us were ever the valedictorian, it’s pretty accurate.

Find it oddly touching for reasons I can’t fully explain. Says Happy Mother’s Day better than anything I could write so let’s just leave it at that.

Brunch foor

Stayed over at my parents and then had brunch over at my old college buddy’s place downtown over the weekend. A report came out that said that the key to happiness is human relations – you can watch it here.

Sounds right to me, iron sharpens iron and all of that.

The bacon doesn’t hurt, either.

A business blog I read’s named Signal Vs. Noise. The name comes from an engineering phrase that differentiates between the amount of useful information being transmitted versus that which’s just useless noise.

People around me’re always telling me stuff. I could be a great ______ if only I ______.

The assumption is, of course, that I dunno what I’m doing, which’s a bit insulting in and of itself. Actually do have a plan and, despite unexpected calamities, have managed to stick to that plan.

Y’know the difference between strategy and tactics? A strategy’s the big goal (Capture or kill Osama bin Laden); tactics are how you attain that goal (conventional warfare or propaganda). People confuse the two all of time, which’s fine, except when they try to push their inability to differentiate upon me.

My tactics shift constantly, as they should, but my strategy never changes.

There’s this section in Made to Stick where the author talks about the Tapper Game. It’s comprised of two players; one’s a tapper that taps out a song on a table, and the other’s a listener that tries to figure out the song. Participants thought they’d get about 50% right; the actual number was less than 2%.

Why?

Cause the tapper, the one tapping out the song, already knew the song in his head and could “hear” it. The one listening to only the tapping couldn’t.

That there’s, in my opinion, about 90% of what’s wrong with all human relationships. The stuff you hear in your head isn’t what the other guy hears. After a while, y’get tired of explaining stuff and either give up or continue to argue.

Am old enough to try and listen to other points of views and make my own decisions. But I’ve got a plan, a strategy, a song I hear in my own head. And I’ve got the results I wanted from these plans – my pad, my people, my poison, and my person. Which means that the song in my head is the right song for me.

And that’s the other thing, it’s my song.

It’s noise to you but signal to me.

Location: in front of my computer as always
Mood: irritated
Music: (the song in my head)

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