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I’m a bitter person

Heidis

Last week was super busy. By design. Didn’t wanna have time to think.

We had a double shoot of Scenic Fights and will again this coming weekend. It’s been exhausting.

Brought the kid out to a diner and had brekkie with the ABFF around the way.

Her: You’re both having a burger for breakfast?
Me: (shrugging) It’s the breakfast of champions. Protein, fat, and fiber. What more do you need?
Boy: Burger! Burger! Burger!
Her: Wait, you gave it to him on whole wheat toast?! (to the boy) You know, in the real world, you have burgers on these fluffy, delicious…
Me: (interrupting) Stop undermining!

We almost had to reschedule the Scenic Fights shoot because I couldn’t find anyone to babysit the kid while we did the shoots but Pez came in and saved the day.

Her: Your kid is a RIOT!

He does have his moments.

After one shoot, we grabbed a quick drink before she left.

Me: I’m gonna warn you that it’s super sweet.
Her: (tasting the wine) Whoa, that is super sweet.
Me: Well, I’m a bitter person so…

She’s dealing with a whole raft of stuff, but that’s her story to tell. It was nice to catch up.

Which is less than I can say about the Counselor because we were trying to catch up most of the week. But, either something comes up with her or something comes up with me and we have to change plans.

We’re just two too busy people. Maybe this week.

Speaking of stuff to deal with, that girl Heidi, I mentioned, is dealing with some really crazy ones.

To the point that she dropped everything and high-tailed it to Europe for a spell.

Didn’t wanna pry but I’m gonna guess that she didn’t head to Ukraine.

Like Daisy, she’s dealing with a whole mess of things all at once but is trying to be better.

Me: Someone once said, “To try to be better is to be better.” So, I’m glad you’re trying.
Her: Thank you. I have a long way to go and I’m afraid I’ll never get there.

I give credit to people trying to be better. There’re few things more soul-crushing than to try and be told, repeatedly, that nothing is good enough.

Speaking of Heidis, I know a number of women with that name.

One is pretty well known in the cosplay circuit under the name Cosplay Kitten.

Her issues have been leaning towards horror; normally, I wouldn’t tell someone else’s story but she recently put up a GoFundMe for hers, which is cancer. It’s legit crazy how many people I now know with it or had it.

Anywho, if you want to toss some scratch her way, she’s a doll and could use the help here.

Getting back to Scenic Fights, there’s actually video connected to the podcast that mentioned last time, which you can see below.

It’s embarrassing because you literally just see the top of head for most of it.

But, it’s still better than nuthin, which is what happened earlier. See, this was actually the second one we did with these guys; the first one – which was better, IMHO – didn’t record properly so it was lost.

So, if you’ve not heard our podcast yet, here it is again in video. Enjoy my enormous head talking about nonsense.

Location: earlier today, just off Union Square, getting slammed to the ground by Pac
Mood: exhausted
Music: Let’s leave before we eat each other alive (Spotify)
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I found treasure

Aloha Teahouse

Mother’s Day was hard. Alison would have been 43 this week.

That’s all I have to say about that.

Counselor: How was your Mothers Day?
Me: It started off pretty bad but ended really amazing.
Her: Oh, why?
Me: (excitedly) I found treasure! Hold on, lemme show you!

While I saw my mom and sister’s family for Mother’s Day, my head was fulla Alison and my dad.

My sister asked that I help clean out the basement, which was mostly my dad’s stuff, but also some of mine and my brother’s randomness here and there.

I’ll tell you more about all that later but do you remember when I told you about the paper umbrellas and my dad?

Well, there’s a coda to that story: He had alla these scary, but cool looking, mugs and glasses that we weren’t allowed to use. Those were for the customers.

Only discovered when I was older that they were tiki mugs and my dad’s restaurant – called Aloha Teahouse – was fashioned after a Japanese hibachi restaurant and tiki bar.

Fast forward to last week. My sister wrote my brother and me that she found a whole box of these.

Sister: Finally giving away these mugs from Aloha Teahouse that dad kept in the garage.
Me: (shocked) Wait! Is there one I could have?! I didn’t realize we had these!

Evidently, they’ve been sitting in our garage since 1984 and I never knew.

Asked her to hold onto four of them for me and she did. My book bag was already stuffed to the brim with things to bring back to my pad, which I’ll tell you about later.

Mom: Just bring back the cups next time.
Me: I can’t. I’m worried they’ll break or they’ll be lost. I gotta bring them back now.

Took my time getting home because I had to manage the kid, all the junk I was hauling back, the food my mom and sister gave me, and the treasure in my bag.

After getting the kid settled and putting away the food, I gently washed each one of the cups and dried them. Once the kid went to sleep, I put all four of them onto the kitchen table and stared at them.

The last time I laid eyes on them was in 1980, 42 years ago.

I had never drunk out of any of them because my dad wouldn’t let me since we were so young.

Somehow, they gave me comfort. I still haven’t drank out of them yet but I will. Maybe in 42 years.

They made me feel like my dad was still around.

I’ve not seen nor spoken to Mouse in months.

But we used to have this thing that we used my little cubby in the gym as a dropbox; I’d leave her things like stuff she left in my house and she’d leave random things for me, like a magazine she knew I loved to read but never bought.

A few months ago, I came in and found these paper umbrellas there.

No real reason, she just decided to leave them there for me.

I asked her why later on – she didn’t leave a note or anything, but I knew it was her – and she said that she just wanted me to have them so I could make the kid a Shirley Temple and tell him stories of my dad.

And that, in a nutshell, is Mouse.

As for me, I think I will use them for exactly what she suggested.

Maybe even with these cups/mugs. Maybe.

Him: Why can’t I touch them?
Me: Because they’re from my papa. He’s not here anymore and I miss him so much that just having these make me think he’s here. Because they were his, so they’re special to me.
Him: (sadly) I don’t know why but that makes me sad. I’m sorry your daddy isn’t here. (thinking) Can I give you a hug?
Me: Heck, yeah – c’mere, kid!

Quick little admin note, Chad and I are in a podcast this Friday the 13th at 11AM so tune in and check us out?

Here’s where you can go:

APPLE PODCASTS: https://podcasts.apple.com/me/podcast/ikuzos-unscripted-podcast/id1586974342

SPOTIFY: https://open.spotify.com/show/3FLnOT2GnvWBh2aqJq0sR0?si=1tVpICTbSFKO_PCdThYISQ

GOOGLE PODCASTS: https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9hbmNob3IuZm0vcy82YzBjYzhmMC9wb2RjYXN0L3Jzcw

DEEZER: https://deezer.page.link/kMHbvMuZ5Lw25ZaM6

INSTAGRAM: https://instagram.com/ikuzo_unscripted

WEBSITE: anchor.fm/ikuzounscripted

 

Location: 1979, a barstool in a hibachi restaurant on New York Route 141, drinking a Shirley Temple from a highball made by my dad
Mood: gutted
Music: I just wish I could have told him in the living years (Spotify)
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Most New Yorkers

Checking out the Chrysler Building

Attorney-at-my-Office: Logan, this is X. You just caught him just in time because this is his last day here.
Me: Oh my, was it something I said?
Her: (laughs) He’s going to back to law school.

Was in my office the other day just to catch up with some co-workers, but also because I was supposed to have drinks at The Campbell with a young lady.

See, the bar’s just a few blocks from where I work. When I go to the office, that is.

As luck would have it, her office was also a few blocks away.

Me: Where are you again?
Her: The Chrysler Building.

Been here close to half-a-centry but I’ve never been inside the Chrysler Building, which – I think – is probably true of most New Yorkers. In fact, I’ve not been to most touristy things.

Left my office and was just about to turn into Grand Central to meet her when she wrote me to say she was stuck in the office late

Her: Sorry, can you actually just come here? Si por favor?
Me: Yes.
Her: Thank youuuu!

So, just a few minutes later, I exit the elevator on her floor.

I’m guessing she’s pretty good at her job because she had a killer office with some killer views.

She actually pulled out a bottle of white from her office fridge but she also had a shelf fulla fine spirits and one cool looking globe decanter.

Me: What’s in the decanter?
Her: I’m actually not sure. It was a gift from someone. I’m not even sure it’s still good.
Me: I pretty much have a cast-iron stomach so, let’s find out.

I opened it and smelled it – it smelled like some really good quality rum. So, I poured myself a glass and tried it.

Me: God, that is so good.
Her: Really?
Me: Yes, you should try it. (hand her my glass)
Her: Whoa, that is good. Shoot, I don’t even know what brand it is since it’s in a decanter.

She introduced me to one of her co-workers and it was nice and somewhat sweet. It’s been a while since someone introduced me to their co-workers in an almost prideful way.

I stayed for a bit, chatting up with her, and we both lost track of time. It was kinda cool, having most of the office to ourselves, not to mention her own nice slice of it.

But we both had other plans so we had to call it an early evening.

Me: I’m heading cross-town for a birthday party, you?
Her: Uptown. Drag-show with my college friends.
Me: Shame. Maybe we’ll see each other this weekend?
Her: I’m sure we’ll figure something out.

There’s a lot more but this is as good a place as any to stop.

On a different matter entirely, my first short for Scenic Fights was just put up.

Do me a favour and check it out, plus like, subscribe, and comment?

Thanks! Back to the usual nonsense tomorrow.

Location: earlier today, getting smashed at Paxibellum
Mood: coughy…
Music: a new perspective, seeing my reflection from a better point of view (Spotify)
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A fella like me

Thinking we’d have more time

Her: I never met a guy who wore a bright red leather jacket before.
Me: (shrugging) Makes sense. You never met a fella like me before.

My son’s been away for a little bit and I miss him terribly.

Still, it does give me a chance to be out and about, something I’ve not had the luxury to be for extended periods of time.

So, I take advantage of it while I can.

One rainy night after we finished rolling around in our gym class, my buddy Miller and I went to get some drinks.

Or, rather, I did, as he’s a teetotaler.

Bartender: You off the sauce tonight?
Him: I’m always off the sauce.

Miller brought me out for my birthday to a nice joint around the way from the gym.

Me: I’ll have the caprese, since I like the sandwich so much.
Him: (after drinks come, he laughs) Now that’s a manly drink.
Me: (shrugging) What can I say? I like my girly drinks because they’re delicious and I love myself. Too bad there’s no umbrella.

It’s funny because Alison made me my first caprese and I used to eat them all the time with the Gradgirl so it made me think of them both.

Didn’t feel right having him cover the bill when it was just me drinking so I secretly paid the bill while he wasn’t looking.

Still, I was touched by the gesture.

Him: Dude, not cool! I wanted to bring you out for your birthday.
Me: And I appreciate it. Thanks for the company.

The bartender struck up a conversation with us and comped me a lemondrop, which also always makes me think of Alison since that was the first drink I ever got her at Solas.

Wrote about it in this entry. In some ways, I’m filled with regret that I didn’t put in more details about all my interactions with her – like the fact that I bought her a lemondrop – but I try not to write about other people if I can help it.

I thought I’d have her with me to reminisce about the details. I thought we’d have time.

Well, fuck. I guess this entry’s done.

Her: I’m finishing up if you want to stop by.
Me: Not tonight, I’m afraid. I’m outta sorts.
Her: You’re no fun.
Me: Evidently not.

Location: home, waiting for him to come back
Mood: detoxing from the week
Music: Rebound, feelin’ like a re-run (Spotify)
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Stealing lines

Hanging with Isabel

Had an interesting 49th birthday this past weekend. First I ran into the French Dancer downtown…

Me: You’re back! When did you get back?
Her: I just got back Monday but I’ve been working on my visa since Monday.
Me: Oh, I’ve done some before in the past. What type?
Her: O1B – the extraordinary artists one. Here, take a look at the paperwork I have to fill out.
Me: Well, you’re the first extraordinary artist I’ve met, then. Whoa! That’s a lotta paperwork. How’s the situationship going?
Her: (laughing) It’s done.
Me: Noted.

There was homemade pie…

Me: I think pie is better than cake.
Her: I agree.
Me: Finally!

….but I had to run off to meet a different lady. That’s a story that starts and ends there.

Most people are as interesting as tap water.

Dammit, I shoulda just stayed for the pie.

Speaking of extraordinary artists, do you remember when I told you that I met this really lovely singer with the NFL Player?

Anywho, her name is Isabel and you can follow her on IG here.

The Counselor and I were looking for stuff to do so we caught Isabel around the way and had a few drinks while listening her sing.

Me: Oh man, I love every song she picked.
Her: Me too!

While Isabel was singing, the Counselor and I caught up.

Me: …so we just wrote him off.
Her: Good for you, not your circus, not your monkeys.
Me: OMG, that’s my line!
Her: What? Lies! That’s not your line, that’s my line.
Me: I beg to differ.

She didn’t like any of the drinks I got her so she got some wine.

Me: You should just finish this, it’s tiny.
Her: That’s what she said.
Me: I literally just said that in my gym class today.
Her: Stop trying to steal all my lines, Logan.

We chatted with Isabel afterward.

Counselor: I love your jacket! Where did you get it?
Isabel: Loft, I think? (checks label) Oh, what’s your sign?
Counselor: It’s X, what’s yours?
Isabel: It’s Y!
Counselor: It’s Logan’s birthday tomorrow. He’s an Aries.
Isabel: Happy Birthday! (to Counselor) He’s totally an Aries.
Me: What’s happening here?

We ended up swinging by my place because she broke her heel. I tried to fix it, hence the rubber mallet.

Me: Wait, you were the captain of the cheerleading team in high school?
Her: No, I was the twice captain of the varsity cheerleading team in high school.
Me: Oh man, I gotta tell all my friends from high school I’ve been dating a (twice) captain of a varsity cheerleading team. Oh wait, I don’t have any friends from high school.
Her: (laughing) You know, if you had a kid when you were 21, he would be just a few years younger than me.
Me: I just threw up a little in my mouth.

It was late when she caught an Uber home.

My actual birthday was pretty quiet so I’ll just tell you about later.

Still trying to catch up on sleep.

Location: earlier today, telling another Daisy about the grief button
Mood: hungry for pie
Music: you’ll be on my mind forever (Spotify)
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You’re in a Situationship

My mundane little life

Alison was never really into tech – at all. But she loved this ebook reader I got her years ago.

While I sold or donated most of her gadgets, that was the one thing I kept. It meant so much to me that I kept the very box it came in for well over a decade.

Because…well, kinda because of what the below cartoon illustrates.

And yet, I clumsily broke it the other day, which hurt more than I expected it to. But I’m trying to keep in the golden mean still, so I tossed it.

Grief really is such an odd and cruel little beast.

On a different matter entirely, I met up with some friends the other day and there was an attractive pharmacist there.

I was suspiciously seated next to her, but it didn’t matter since I can literally talk to anyone.

Her: So, what do you?
Me: The usual. I cook, bake, clean, teach people how to kill each other, and then go on dates-to-nowhere. You?

Later…

Him: So, what did you think of X?
Me: Oh, she’s lovely.
Him: And…?
Me: (puzzled) And what? She’s 29. I’m 49.
Him: You’re almost 49.
Me: Jesus Christ…

Similarly, I went to another party with the Surgeon and his wife. There was a young French dancer there too.

Once again, we ended up sitting next to each other.

Me: Wait, he lives in Texas? Oh, so you’re not in a relationship, you’re in a situationship.
Her: (laughing, then speaking in a cool French accent) Is that what it’s called?
Me: Evidently. I just found out that I was in a situationship for three years and immediately jumped into another one – or two…
Her: (later) Here, take my number.
Me: Ok then. Give me your phone and I’ll call myself.

As it turns out, the woman that taught me the phrase dropped me a 1AM text that was both sweet and sad.

I’ll keep the details of it to myself since I’m actually wondering where that one’s going.

But, getting back to the dancer, she’s actually on a plane back to Paris as you read this because she’s dancing in a show there.

Him: I see you got her digits.
Me: You know she’s 26, right?
Him: (shrugging)
Me: OK, then…

Speaking of planes, world events are really freaking me out. The other day, two Ospreys flew over my son’s school. It was nuts.

Him: (excitedly) Did you see that?! It was so cool!
Me: (concerned) Well, that’s one word for it.

But, so far, World War III hasn’t happened. Instead, it’s just the mundane little life I’ve grown to love in my own way.

Him: I want double chocolate chip cookies.
Me: But I just baked peanut butter oatmeal cookies.
Him: DOUBLE. CHOCOLATE. CHIP. COOKIES!!!!
Me: What’s in it for me?
Him: You’re my papa and you love me.
Me: (dammit) This is a compelling argument.

Very compelling, it turns out.

Seriously, I need a life partner just so this kid doesn’t take me for a ride for the next 20-30 years.

Location: the kitchen, baking like a madman
Mood: ambitious
Music: Thought that you would change, you didn’t (Spotify)
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Interestingly Weird

It’s like a salad but with alcohol

Saw my college friends – with alla our kids – the other day. They wanted to check out the gym. The kids had a blast running all over the mats.

Afterwards, we walked over to Shake Shack which is exactly what they all wanted.

I’ve known one of these guys since we were 16 years old – 32 years. It really boggles the mind.

There’s an older fella, that joined our gym that lives just a few blocks from my pad.

He runs a hedge fund, but used to play for the NFL, so he’s got a tonier address than I do. Much.

Mentioned to him that Charles Pan-Fried Chicken moved from Harlem to halfway between the two of us.

The lines have been around the block but he has people that work for him so he sent one of them to wait in line for us.

Him: What should she order?
Me: Definitely the fried chicken, the collard greens, and the ribs. God, the ribs are killer. Man, it’s good to have people.

She ordered enough to feed an army. Or just me.

Me: I’m going to kill all the chicken.
Him: Go ahead, we got it for you!

Because he used to play for the NFL, he’s a giant. But I think I ate more than him, which is a bit embarrassing.

I brought the kid over for dinner to boot, and his wife just adored him. It was sweet to see.

Me: (to kid) You’re making a mess!
Her: It’s fine, I have a son and remember this.
Me: You’re being too nice.

The kid literally just wanted the mac and cheese and the cornbread. He ate FOUR pieces of cornbread.

Him: I’m full.
Me: (scoffing) Yeah, of carbs.
Him: I love carbs!

Years ago, I was always the youngest of the people I hung out with. A number of them called me, “the kid,” a lot.

Since Alison died, I mostly hung out with people from my gym, who were all at least 15-20 years younger than me, making me the elder statesman of the group.

But, I’m trying to fix a buncha things in my life. One thing is how over-weighted I’ve been with much younger people in my social circle.

It’s fine, for the most part, but when you’re the oldest and most experienced person in a group, you’re usually giving information rather than getting it.

And, like I’ve said a buncha times before, you’re the average of the five people you hang out with the most and I feel my mind focusing on things that it shouldn’t be focusing on.

So, between hanging out with Steel and his surgeon brother, my college friends, and the NFL Player, I feel more like the version of me I was before everything went down.

Plus, I like hanging out with hyper-ambitious and successful people because their energy rubs off on me.

After all, it’s better to have success models versus failure models.

My life’s becoming interestingly weird again, which I kinda missed.

Later on, I invited the NFL Player out to eat some Chinese food to repay him for all the killer soul food we had.

Me: Notice something?
Him: What?
Me: You’re one of the only non-Chinese here. So, you know the food’s killer.

Ordered an obscene amount of food, as you might imagine.

We ended up grabbing drinks around the way – I ordered a mojito…

Him: What is that, exactly?
Me: It’s like a salad, but with alcohol.

…and some Hemmingway daiquiris.

He’s set on fixing me up with some of his friends.

Him: (showing me a picture) What about her?
Me: Oh, she’s pretty. But I’m currently…
Him: (interrupting) She’s worth half-a-billion dollars.
Me: Welp, suddenly, I’m a lot more interested. Although the last almost billionaire I dated was an asshole. Wait, you wanna set up a super wealthy woman with a dude that runs a gym?
Him: (laughs) You have your charm. (later) Let’s go talk to the singer…

Next thing you know, he’s shoving me in front of the singer at the bar we’re at.

Him: In terms of charm, out of 10, what would you give my buddy Logan here?
Her: (laughing) A solid 10.
Him: There you go. Logan?
Me: Jesus Christ…I can’t bring him anywhere. So, what’s your story?

Location: earlier today, learning a pressure pass with Pac
Mood: flattered
Music: know right here and now that I’d go anywhere with you (Spotify)
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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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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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A Strange & Complicated Evening Pt 1: Sounds Class

No, no time at all

My friend Bridget hit me up the other day. There’s a bidding war going on for her skills in business and she asked if we could meet up for dinner on Thursday.

I already had a date lined up with the Counselor later on that night but the timing actually worked out.

Me: If you’re up for Korean, we can head to Koreatown.
Bridge: Koreatown sounds class, let’s do that, you pick the place.

The weather was just lovely so we took a walk from 18th Street to 32nd Street. Along the way, I showed her where Alison and I went on our first date all those years ago.

Here’s a picture of Alison that I snapped right before I walked up to her to tell her that I was there.

Man, I loved that girl. Fuck me.

Bridge: You know we’ve known each other close to 20 years?
Me: (laughing) Has it been that long?
Her: You know what I hate the most about that?
Me: What?
Her: You haven’t aged a day. Nadi and I both hate that about you.

I actually interviewed her for her gig all those years ago. I liked her immediately. She had this really cool Irish brogue to boot.

This was being filmed on the walk up.

After we settled into my go-to Korean restaurant, I reminded her that she and her husband were the last people to see Alison out and about, socially.

Her: (thinking) I’ve been wondering when I should bring this up.
Me: What?
Her: (slowly) We’re divorcing. It’s been a long time coming.
Me: I have to say, Alison always wondered why you were with him.

That unpleasantness aside, we honestly both had a great time hanging out.

Her: …I have about 45 people reporting to me.
Me: Jesus Christ. I remember meeting you when all you had was crazy ambition. Now look at you. My cousin Ras has this saying that she loves and you’re kinda the definition of it: You’re a Boss Bitch.
Her: (laughing) I like it.
Me: Now, how can I make this work for me?

Afterward, I walked her back to the train station.

Her: I hope you give one of these women a chance. (gently) The lawyer sounds promising. Give her a chance. The others…
Me: We’ll see. I’m in a weird headspace.

That was totally true.

After she left, I thought about everything we discussed and started getting really angry. It’s irrational, I know.

See, it turns out that he was drinking himself to death. They’ve got two kids and hearing that made me so…angry.

Alison and my dad struggled for so long to survive and this dude was killing himself instead of dealing with his demons.

But then I realized I did the same thing myself for years and, somehow, that just made me angrier.

Decided to head back to the gym and, while I was changing, Chad noticed that I wasn’t myself.

Him: Are you ok?
Me: I’m drunk and I’m angry.
Him: How angry?
Me: Murderously.
Him: OK, then you gotta go.
Me: (nodding)

So, less than five minutes after I arrived, I changed yet again, and walked out the door.

Had to pull myself together because I was meeting up with the Counselor. I was so messed up that I drafted a message to her asking her for a rain check.

But she actually beat me to the punch before I could send it.

Counselor: Hey, I’m sooo sorry to do this but I have to reschedule our date tonight. I had a bit of an emergency come up and I just can’t get around it. I’m super disappointed I have to cancel.
Me: Do you not have any time at all?

This was her response:

Her: No, no time at all.

That was the start of one of the strangest and complicated evenings I’ve ever had.

And I’ve had many strange and complicated evenings in this life.

Location: earlier today, running into a possible past downtown
Mood: not sober
Music: When the world goes changing, I will be your sure thing (Spotify)
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