Tag: friends

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personal

Saving the day

More fried fowl

The boy’s class had an outdoor gettogether recently at the park near my pad.

It was nice meeting some of the other parents.

Her: Oh, I’m a lawyer too. Kinda, I don’t really practice.
Me: Sounds like me. Did you go to law school here?
Her: Oh, no. I went to Yale.
Me: (laughing) If I went to Yale, I would have that tattooed on my forehead: “I went to Yale Law School.”

He had a grand time.

There’s something about seeing your kid joyous that’s gives you joy. This is him discovering a fallen branch.

It’s funny that I have to remind myself that everything is new and novel to him.

Also had a Scenic Fights shoot this past Sunday – which definitely deserves its own entry – and my normal babysitter had to bail for reasons I totally understood.

But that meant me scrambling for someone that I trusted to watch the kid while we shot our vids.

Literally called everyone I knew. Unfortunately, no one could make it – that is until Pez came in and saved the day.

Her: Yellow! I was just able to switch my Sunday, so I’ll be able to watch him for ya!
Me: Yes! Thanks!

She’s actually been helping out both with the kid and with the gym, the latter being a project I’ll tell you about later.

But, to figure out the contours of that project, we got some drinks and other legal pharmaceuticals to chat about it.

After a while, we got munchy and started trying to figure out how to get some food into ourselves.

We tried to get some wings at one joint but were thwarted by technology.

Her: Wait, we can only order on our phones.
Me: So, we have to download and install an app just to order food?!
Her: Yup.
Me: Well, that’s annoyingly dumb.

We bailed and just picked up fried fowl across the street and caught up at my pad.

Now I want some more fried fowl…

Location: at an Italian restaurant with Pez, the boy, Chad, and the NFL Player
Mood: fat…sooooo fat…
Music: Believe in me. Believe that life can change (Spotify)
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Still ever the skillest and killest, Pt 3

An awful gift

It’s funny, when I first met Mouse, she was arm-wrestling a girl in yet another bar. At least, that’s one of the earliest entries where I introduced her to you for the first time.

In any case, she ended up arm-wrestling another girl at Pac’s bday at Solas as well. She won.

After I had my little outdoor escapade with the woman from the bar, I went back to Solas but when I returned, mosta my friends had left.

Since I knew the bouncers, they just waved me and I quickly – well, as quickly as I could considering how snockered I was – went up to where we were all sitting because I remembered I left my camera at the table in our room.

Shockingly, it was still there.

New York’ll still surprise you from time-to-time, I think.

I’d just left and wanted to eat so I wandered around looking for food. This worked out because I ran into Mouse outside on the street.

She was stone cold sober because she was driving the old whip.

Asked her if she’d be willing to give me a lift to the station cause it was super late and she – hesitatingly – obliged.

Figure she could tell I was two sheets to the wind. She’s one of the few that can since I don’t turn red and I don’t act much different to most people.

It was nice being in the whip again; I thought of her and my dad and tried to remember if they met. They didn’t.

It was a short drive – just from 9th and 2nd to 14th and 7th. But along the way, she asked me something that sobered me up right fast.

Her: When we were together, you wanted to die. You were suicidal. But then…you said that you would stay for the boy. (pause) I didn’t understand why you wouldn’t live for me.

Our past conversations were always arguments, always. Lots of yelling and finger-pointing. And anger.

So much anger, from both of us.

This time, though, the way she said it – simply and plainly, no anger, no bitterness, just…simply and resigned – cut through my intoxicated brain.

If I had a space to crawl into to hide, man, I woulda.

Me: (struggling) I don’t know. I was really messed up then. (sighing) I’m so sorry for everything.

She countered – calmly again – that she was often in physical and  emotional pain when we were together. Yet she still helped me – and the kid – despite her own pain. Instead of doing the same and helping her, I was trying to think of ways to kill myself.

The bad thing about being able to forget things is that when you remember them, it’s like you’re experiencing it for the first time. I saw exactly the moment she brought up, as if I was watching it unfold for the first time.

Like Athena in Zeus’s head, that memory grew and, like Zeus, if I coulda, I woulda grabbed a hammer to bash it out.

Honestly, I woulda much preferred she screamed at me. Much.

She pulled up to the station, I stepped out, and she drove away.

Wish I could tell you I said something terribly charming or clever before I left. But I didn’t. For someone never at a loss for words, there I was.

It’s been four years since we were together. I was sleepwalking through life when I met her. Wish I found a way to wake up before she left.

Then again, I wish a lotta things.

I’m still ever the skillest and killest with my deadly weapons and I’m always armed and dangerous.

It’s a truly awful gift.

Him: (out of the blue) I wish I had a sibling.
Me: What?! (deep breath) I’m sorry, kid. I…
Him: It’s ok, papa. I just wish…
Me: (interrupting) I know. We wish a lotta things. I wish that too.

Location: on 79th Street, trying to explain why to him
Mood:
Music: you want nothing in return, I feel guilty (Spotify)
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Still ever the skillest and killest, Pt 2

It’s my life that’s funny

It was Pac’s birthday the other night and he wanted to have something at Solas, as our usual tradition, so I set it up.

Coincidentally, the following picture showed up on my feed on FB the same day.

Again, there’s been a ton of weird coincidences around me lately, although, really, it was for his birthday four years ago, so it wasn’t entirely unexpected.

Mouse was going to be there this year as well. We’ve not communicated in a while. It’s funny because she and I were two totally different people when that picture was taken.

The moment I arrived, shots were being passed around. The joint was packed – even Tom from Scenic Fights and Katrina showed up.

Pac was having a grand time from the moment he arrived to the moment he stumbled out the door home.

Early on, was able to take some clear pics…

…but, as the night went on, my pics got worse and worse because there was alcohol everywhere…

…so my pics started ending up like this.

Seriously, everywhere.

Met a woman named Jenna at the bar who wanted to come into Pac’s (private) party but I felt that would be rude to Mouse so I told her she couldn’t.

Besides…

Her: …26. You?
Me: (laughing)
Her: (laughing as well) What’s so funny?
Me: My life, darling. Lovely meeting you, reallly.

But there was also a dude that was pestering me all night – I tried to hint that I wasn’t gay – but he kept randomly showing up until Mouse brought him over to sit with us, so I had to leave.

This is Katrina, who is NOT the girl I’m talking about below – and whoever took this shot was way drunker than I.

A lotta of the night was blur. At one point I was outside with another drunk woman who had to pee. Like, right then and there.

Me: We can go back to Solas, you know.
Her: I’m going right here, between the cars.
Me: Wait, what?! (she does so) Welp, this is a new level I’ve unlocked. (later) I’ll join you. Stand in front of me…

In my defense, she had lovely eyes, I had a lot to drink, and she was very convincing.

There’s more but this is getting long and I’m writing it on a train pulling into Penn Station, so I’ll continue it later on this week.

Location: on a train just outside Plainfield, NJ, writing this and tomorrow’s entry
Mood: guilty
Music: should have fallen out of love with you by now (Spotify)
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Old lions

Parenting’s hard

Before I went out with RE Mike, I picked up the kid from school and he wasn’t his usual indefatigably happy self because of his black eye.

Him: Some of the kids were making fun of me. (sadly) They called me hamburger face. I didn’t like that. I asked them to stop but they didn’t. (sighs)
Me: You can’t control what other kids do or say, but you can control how you react to these things. Do you know their names?
Him: No.
Me: People that you don’t know that are mean shouldn’t matter to you. Don’t care so much about people and things that don’t matter. Now, go play.
Her: (woman overhearing my conversation after he ran off) That was really good advice.
Me: Thanks. Parenting’s hard, isn’t it?
Her (nodding) So hard.

If you don’t have a kid, it’s difficult to explain how much it wears on a parent to have a sad kid; and this kid is rarely sad.

But when he is, I’m bummed all day.

While I was out with RE Mike, I mentioned the fact that I studied weapons fighting for just about as long as we’ve known each other.

He was totally shocked because I never once mentioned it.

It’s funny, people think that because I have a blog, my life’s an open book. In many ways, it is. But I also keep a lotta secrets.

There’s so much of my life I’ve not told you and I don’t think you’d believe if I told you anywho.

After all, some secrets are (quite) good and some are (quite) bad, but all are special things.

The next morning, he texted me the following – the link is to Scenic Fights:

Anywho, after I picked the boy up late from RE Mike’s pad, we took the long walk to the west side to grab the train home.

Him: I’m scared.
Me: Why?
Him: It’s so dark and people are so loud.
Me: It’s fine, you’re with me and I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you.
Him: You’re not scared?
Me: Everyone’s scared sometimes. But I’m not right now. Because these people are all like sheep, or – at most – like wolves, and papa’s neither.
Him: What are you then?
Me: (laughing) Uncle Pac thinks papa’s an old lion. That sounds about right. And lions – even old ones – aren’t afraid of sheep or wolves.

Although, to be fair, I’m like a weird old lion…

Location: West 77th and Columbus on a conference call trying to sound cavalier
Mood: parental
Music: devil’s on my shoulder stirring up trouble (Spotify)
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Donuts and bruises

Family of two

The pastor wrote me recently about a concert in November but it’s hard for me to plan out my schedule that far in advance.

On that note, I’m reminded that he stopped by with some high-class donuts the other day for some coffee and conversation.

I’m wearing the glove because I had some cuts on my hands for reasons we don’t need to get into.

Gotta say, there was a world of difference between my usual whole wheat donut and these bad boys.

Think I’m gonna have to hit the gym hard again.

Although I did have it with my portable peanut butter because I like to ruin things.

Still, I might have a problem going the gym as much as I want. I’ve had some health issues pop up recently, on top of tearing my meniscus.

The first is that Pac dropped me on my head in a recent Scenic Fights shoot. He was injured and tired and so was I so that wasn’t a good combo as I essentially got pile-driven into the mat.

Thank goodness that we recently just got gifted a crash pad because it woulda been seriously bad without it.

The doc said he didn’t see anything major to be concerned about but did ask me to take it easy.

But then some routine tests came back…weird. Need to run a few more tests to figure it all out.

Of course, there’s always something.

Finally, I’m not the only person in my two-person family with unexpected health issues; the kid was running in an afterschool program in the second week of class and then went face-first into a pipe.

1/2 an inch lower and he coulda lost an eye.

Alison once said that, the night before you become a parent is the last night you get a good night of sleep.

Man, that’s so true.

Him: It hurts!
Me: I know, kid. I’m sorry.
Him: Don’t touch it!
Me: I gotta. I’m sorry.
Him: Noooo!
Me: I need you trust me, ok? Do you trust me?
Him: Yes?
Me: Good enough. Deep breath.

Location: last night ~11PM on 8th St, telling him about sheep, wolves, and lions
Mood: concerned
Music: wish that I could build a world for two (Spotify)
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A Bohemian Biergarten Bday

I joke that this is how most people react when I arrive places.

Great skin

The thing about Scenic Fights is that I actually like alla the people involved in its production.

And there are a lotta people involved in it; I think you’d be surprised if you actually saw the entire crew. I suppose that’s why it looks so polished.

In any case, Tom is the main cameraman and he turned 30 this past weekend so, after the gym one night, I went to Astoria to the oldest biergarten in New York to celebrate.

The last one I’d gone to was with my college friends but I actually came to this one with other friends from my gym a while back. This time, I went with my friend, Katrina, from my current gym.

Me: (at the gym) Wait, what on earth is in your bag, lady?!
Her: Broccoli. What?! I needed to get groceries.
Me: OK, you’ll need to stay 10 feet behind me at all times.
Her: Are you serious?
Me: Kinda.

The train took forever to get there so we just chatted. One thing I learned about her is that she has 200,597 unread emails.

Me: How is that even possible?
Her: Well, a lot of them are junk mail and…
Me: (interrupting) Jesus Christ, I don’t even know where to start. First of all…

Getting back to her groceries, once we got to the joint, the guy at the door wouldn’t let us in.

Him: No outside food.
Me: It’s groceries, man.
Him: No outside food.
Me: It’s raw broccoli! Trust me, we’re not gonna be whipping this out to eat in a bar.

He was grumpy but ultimately let us in.

I would totally whip that out and eat it in a bar.

Immediately bumped into Tom’s best friend, who works for Scenic Fights as well, as soon as I walked in.

Me: Which group is ours?
Him: This whole section is ours; all of these tables are for Tom.
Me: Whoa, we own this joint.

I was starving so the first order of business was buying some fries and a kielbasa plus drinks for me and Katrina.

In terms of just the food, this is what $19 will buy you in NYC.

For serious.

For some reason, I was in the mood for a cranberry vodka but she wanted the hard seltzer.

Me: Can I try that?
Her: Sure.
Me: Oh, that’s pretty good. I’ll have that later.

After we had gotten some food into us, we started to relax and socialize.

Tom’s super tall so I always joke for him to not be taller than me. He obliged, as the good friend he is.

Him: Honestly, there are a lot of drawbacks to being tall.
Me: Oh, yes, tell the old, short Chinese man how awful it is to be 30, white, and tall in America.

Also met his girlfriend and another buddy’s wife. After a while, they started offering to set me up with their friends, which I found both funny and flattering.

Girl1: What about her? (shows me her phone)
Me: Super cute. How old is she?
Girl1: 27.
Me: Oh, man…
Girl2: Wait, here’s my best friend. You’d love her.
Me: Also super cute. How old is she?
Girl3: Younger! 26.
Me: Wait, [that’s the wrong direction] how old do you think I am?
Girl2: I dunno. 33?!
Me: (to friend) MARRY THIS GIRL! (to her) You are my favourite person at this table. The rest of you can go pound sand.

Tom’s girlfriend and another girl took my phone because they wanted to give me suggestions on my dating profile.

Me: Anything you don’t like?
Her: Honestly, that’s a really good profile and good picture choices. And you’re lawyer? I thought you were a martial arts teacher.
Me: Ivy-league educated lawyer. And you should see me cook, lady.

Tom sat at another table with some other people, and motioned me over.

Him: Come meet some of your fans, Logan.
Me: Wait, my mom’s here?

The people at the table also thought I was about 33 and when I told them how old I was, two women immediately asked me what my skin care regime was.

Me: I dunno. I stay outta the sun and eat mostly protein, fat, and fiber.
Her: You don’t moisturize?
Me: No. I’m a dude.

Now that I think about it, women that find out my age generally ask me my skin care regime. I should have a better answer.

In any case, Katrina and I stayed out pretty late. There’s a funny(ish) silent dance party video I need to dig up to show you.

Now, I have an app that tells me when the next train is and it turned out that that one was coming in 5 mins and the next one was gonna be 23 minutes later so we made a mad dash for the station.

Me: (running, then stopping) Dammit, I dropped your broccoli. Again, who buys…
Her: (running) NOT NOW, LOGAN! LET’S GO!

It was a fun night and nice group of people. But the kid’s back soon, so I’ll be back to daddy duty this week.

Which is fine, cause I miss him like crazy.

Location: Penn Station, yesterday, off to go get my treasure
Mood: happy
Music: I’m starting to forget all of the ridges of your spine (Spotify)
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Two Pizza Joints, an Indian Restaurant, and a Park – Pt 2

The Girl Before Alison

Used to take the PATH all the time to see the ex before Alison.

You know, I started this blog 16 years ago because of that ex. How silly it all seems now.

After all these years, I never gave her a name so let’s call her the Girl Before Alison.

Anywho, I used to go to the GBA’s house alla time. Like every weekend, she’d head over to mine or I’d head over to hers. For years.

But walking up the stairs out of the Jersey City Grove Street Station, I didn’t remember a single time I did it to see her. Not a one.

Then again, I didn’t remember heading there in 2013 with Alison and I desperately wished I did.

This time around, I walked down the streets to meet up with Blond Banker, marveling at all the buildings but remembering none of them.

It’s like I peeked into someone else’s life, not my own.

Arriving at Barcade, I saw Blond Banker and immediately started chatting with her and some other people there.

Woman there: Here’s a [blank] name tag for you to write your name.
Me: Do I have to put my real name?
Her: …no?

Two women I met that night both lived within two blocks of my pad on the UWS; one lived some 300 feet from my pad.

Me: NO WAY!
Her: I’m serious. I used to live XXX.
Me: Wait, next door is where I took kali for 17 years.
Her: Really!?

Everyone was very nice but I was too in my head. After a while, Blond Banker and I were hungry so we decided to get something to eat.

We were headed to a Thai joint when she asked if I wanted to eat at the rooftop bar at Porta so in we went.

Honestly, while John’s of Times Square is cool, Porta was gorgeous and looked better than John’s. That’s something.

We ordered a plate of meatballs…

…and a pizza.

Her: You’ve never had an arugula pizza?
Me: They just put a salad on top of a pizza? (shrugging) Actually, it’s fine. I’ll eat it.

It ended up being pretty good. She only had a slice or so and half a meatball so I ate almost everything and was still hungry afterward. Of course.

We chatted about life in general and dating in the city.

Me: Honestly, as an attractive blond woman, I feel you could have your pick of men.
Her: (rolls eyes) I hate the apps.

There’s more but I’m trying to keep things to my story alone, where possible.

She called an Uber after a bit and  we sat on a bench looking at yet another pizza restaurant and chatting while we waited.

It was late when she hopped into the car to head home.

I was right at the entrance for the Grove street station to head back to my world when something compelled me to walk down the street I used to walk with the GBA.

Y’know…I don’t remember what the GBA looks like anymore. I don’t think I’ve seen a picture of her in well over a decade. I do remember her voice though.

I’d been drinking so it was a bit like sleepwalking, but I started walking down Grove Street past the station and found myself in 2002 again; two decades ago, when I was a much younger man

I wasn’t yet the story that people whisper to each other, “Oh, did you hear about what happened to Logan?!”

But I’ll tell you about that tomorrow because this is getting long again.

Location: last night, Astoria, celebrating a buddy’s 30th birthday at a beirgarten until late
Mood: so tired
Music: I wish I could hit rewind (Spotify)
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You want some Yellowfin Tuna?

OK, steel it

The Counselor dropped me a line outta the blue and we had a relatively nice conversation, which I’ll just keep to myself.

She may be the only woman in NYC that hasn’t told me to go fuck myself.

Then again, it’s early in the week, yet.

My buddy Steel hit me up too.

Him: Can you come by and pick up some yellowtail tomorrow?
Me: Heck yeah!

The last time he gave me fish from one of his massive fishing trips was almost a decade ago. Still remember it well; it was right around my old gym.

Me: Waking up at two am to go out in the middle of the ocean in a small boat? That’s like my nightmare. Then again…tuna!

I had a wife and no kid then. And I was hanging out with a completely different set of people.

It’s like that was a different me altogether.

Same for him.

This time he went fishing with a couple of dot com millionaires and his chief surgeon brother. They dropped six figures for the two-day trip.

Him: Yeah, they had serious fuck-you money. This bottle of wine was $1,200 and we had three of them.
Me: Dammit, why can’t we have fuck-you money?
Him: We became lawyers.
Me: Man, that was dumb. Well, at least we hang out with people that have fuck-you money.

Like I said, we’re the average of the five people we hang out with the most. There was a time I made it a point to be the least successful outta the people I hung out with.

Been reassessing what I’ve been doing with my time and with whom. I feel like I’ve been sleepwalking through the last couplea years.

Anywho, they ended up catching THREE yellow-fin tunas; he caught the 65 pound one.

This is him with it; I should note that he’s six-foot-two and looks like Clark Kent so this fish was massive.

We went out drinking and eating in his hood. I chatted up the Irish waitress who had this really cool brogue.

Me: You know, my son’s part Irish. I should bring him by here to hear what his people sound like.
Her: You should, sweetie!

She then asked if we had lost a sandal.

Who walks outta a bar missing a sandal? NYC’s a strange town.

Sorry so blurry. We had been drinking for a while and that dude pounds.

Steel just bought an apartment in a brand new building on the UES and we walked by it. It was gorgeous.

Me: OK, I need you to do me a solid. If I ever have a date around here, I’m gonna bring her by, tell her this is my pad, and you and the fam have gotta jet.
Him: (laughing) Sure.

Not (necessarily) his pad, but you get the idea.

He ended up giving me like six pounds of tuna or so, which I tried my best to do justice to.

This was attempt number two. Man…you don’t wanna see attempt number one.

My dad used to make me sashimi/sushi all the time. Since I was a little kid.

Was always embarrassed that I had to eat raw fish when my friends got to have pizza. What a dumb kid I was.

Steel and Bryson were amongst the last of my friends to ever have seen him. I’m glad it was them.

I’ll tell you about that someday.

I wish I learned how to make sushi from him. I wish I did a lotta things with him but we ran outta time.

Shit. When you love someone, there’s never enough goddamn fucking time.

I miss him terribly.

Location: earlier this week, someplace called “the Upper East Side”
Mood: on high alert
Music: bring back the water, let your ships roll in (Spotify)
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Five years

Don’t you steal it

It’s been five years since my dad died. I’d forgotten, actually, until my sister reminded me.

Being able to forget is a good thing, I think. It hurts a lot less this year than before, because I can see that he lived a good long life, saw his kids get older, and got to meet his grandchildren before he died.

I’ll tell you more stories about him, someday.

Because he lived a life worth living. I loved him and always will.

On completely different note, Chad got injured so I’m going to end up covering three classes this week, including probably our busiest one.

I’m fine with teaching/public speaking, as you know, but the timing’s not the best.

My phone’s been ringing off the hook with work. I can’t possibly take all the work that’s been coming my way but, like I said, it’s nice to know that I’m still valued for my usefulness.

Although I do think I offer some entertainment here and there.

Me: Did you know, every nation on earth wrestles and has a dumpling? So, here’s my idea, a dumpling restaurant where you can pick a nation’s dumplings and then, before or after, wrestle in that nation’s style.
Guy 1: Wait, what about pairings?
Guy 2: Yeah, can you mix and match?
Me: Of course, this is still America.
Guy 3: That’s a cool idea.
Me: Don’t you steal it!

My son’s explaining traffic patterns to me in that pic above.

My dad woulda loved to see how smart and funny this kid is.

Location: earlier today, explaining how to strangle more efficiently
Mood: resigned
Music: That’s how you walk on a tightrope (Spotify)
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I was incandescent

Belonging to someone

My brother, and another friend, once remarked that a lotta the people we’ve casually dated are still friendly with us and I asked him why he thought that was.

Him: (shrugging) We’re useful.

As always, he’s right. He and I have alla these explicit skills (lawyer/doctor) plus rando skills that are useful.

Plus, we both like helping people.

On that note, another woman from my past reached out to me for my legal opinion on something.

Gotta say, it was one of the more interesting legal scenarios I’ve come across…

Me: Whoa! That’s…insane.
Her: I was incandescent.
Me: I have to write that down.

…and I gave her my opinion…

Me: You do know why they did this, don’t you?
Her: Why?
Me: Because they thought they could get away with it. Don’t let them.
Her: But, what’s the upside for me?
Me: Cash money, yo. Plus, you’re stopping them.

…and that was that.

We then caught up because it’s been a while since we chatted.

She’s on the dating apps but she also gets so many inquiries that she ends up just not opening the app because they give her stress.

Me: Man, women’s and men’s dating problems are so different.
Her: I think I’m just going to stop altogether.
Me: (shrugging) I dunno, you might meet a gem like me.
Her: (incredulous) I have so many thoughts, I don’t know which one to go for. I need a drink.
Me: I can get behind that. Let’s do it.

We ended up chatting for a while.

Her: What about you?
Me: (laughing) Well, I just recently went on a date and called her by an ex’s name, so, yeah, it’s going great. What about you?
Her: I have over 1,000 messages on one app. It just stresses me out.
Me: You need a dating manager to handle alla that for you.

Somehow, we got onto the topic of the two of us, which was uncomfortable because there were so many layers to it.

And, she actually said to me what Alison said to me on our first date.

Her: (sighing) Oh, Logan. You’re so dumb.

Ended up cutting off the conversation early because of that and for other personal reasons that are unimportant here.

But she wrote me afterward to tell me that all was ok, which I appreciated.

Relationships are hard, even when they’re great. Add on things like trauma and such and it’s just a mess.

I wish I was her person. I wish I was a lotta people’s…person. But, I suppose I’m still looking for something I can’t put into words.

It drove Caligirl nuts when I used to say that to her; she thought I was making it up. But it’s always been true for me.

Still, it’s a bit different now. See, I used to belong to someone.

And then I thought maybe I belonged to someone else, but – it turned out – she didn’t belong to me.

And I miss belonging to someone that belongs to me.

I’m a guard without enough people I love to guard. And one that failed his last charge.

Location: the basement of my brain again
Mood: searching
Music: save me from my brain (Spotify)
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