Categories
personal

Thinking about all the Hows and Whys

Watch time

This woman named Alice Neel once said that All experience is great provided you live through it. If it kills you, you’ve gone too far.

Had enough distance now from my old troubles to think about it objectively. Alla these things I thought I’d never make it past I did somehow.

Suppose that’s just human nature, to survive the blows. And the one benefit of the gut-wrenching is that peculiar feeling that, If I could survive XX, I could survive anything.

Alison and I were in the hospital on Thursday.

The hows and whys are for some other time and from some other narrator.

My parta the story’s that I was two hours north of the city when I rushed down to hear the news.

Just lemme tell you that there are times in a man’s life when he just wants to cover up his ears like a child and not hear to those impatient things that need to be heard.

But you listen cause you’re not a child. Not for a while now.

And you nod. There’s always a lotta goddamn nodding.

And after all that listening and nodding, you manage to compress all of that agony and fear into a tight little ball and stuff it into some crack in your soul where y’hide that stuff.

Then y’take a deep breath, and say out loud, It’s gonna be ok. Partly for them, mostly for yourself.

And it is, almost always, somehow ok.

But cause you’re an insomniac, you get up in the middle of the night to sit by your lonesome on an uncomfortable couch and, without fail, retrieve that ball you hid earlier. You unpack it, smooth it out, and examine it from a million different angles, hoping for some understanding that never comes.

Finally – despite your best efforts – y’think about all of those hows and whys. Mostly the whys.

Location: Last week, a waiting room at Columbus Circle
Mood: worried
Music: sun is going down but it will rise again
YASYCTAI: Remember that you made it through all the other times. (time/2 pts)
Subscribe!

Categories
business personal

Real Artists Ship / Goodbye LJ / Goodbye Steve

Grand Central Station

 

My favourite thing about Steve Jobs was this thing he said a while back. The story goes that some guy was constantly tweaking and editing something, saying it wasn’t ready yet. He was an artist, y’see. At which point Steve blew up and said, “Real artists ship!”

He meant that the only difference between a nutcase with a notebook and a writer was that a writer tossed his baby out into the world and let come what may. Anyone can call themselves an artist but a real artist produces.

Thought about the man and that quote a lot. He had a million ideas but the difference between him and everyone else was that he rolled his dice, he took his chances. He never was onea those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.

Who knows what he could have shipped if given just a little more time?

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? He made more in month than I could ever make in a lifetime. Yet it’s why I despise that saying, time is money. Any idiot can make more money.

But time, that we’re not afforded enough of, regardless of the person. Time is a trillion factors greater than money.

Bye, Steve. Wish you had less money but more time.

 

Logan Lo in Paris

For those of you coming from LiveJournal, thanks for coming along.

It’s been a while and hopefully a little while more.

 

Location: Not livejournal any more. Just here. It’s weird.
Mood: weird
Music: For every beginning There must come an end I want to thank you
YASYCTAI: Maybe hit that “subscribe” link just below? (30 secs/0.25 pts)
Subscribe!

Categories
dating personal

Need the darkness, someone please cut the lights

Clock in midtown, NYC

Got a number of nice comments from friends that read my last Technorati entry as to Why Wednesday is the Best Night for a First Date. Tell me what you think.

———-

Was running around the city again last week when a client called me and asked me to come over. His dad passed away and he wanted my help addressing a few things. Told him I would, so that kills any free time mighta had this month and maybe next.

It’s a terrible thing to think but if the father had to pass, 2010 is the best year for a rich person to do so cause there’s no estate tax.

Course, that’s on a purely pragmatic basis; on a personal level it’s always too early for a loved one to go, yeah?

Been thinking a lot about life and death these days. Maybe it’s the weather.

Saw my aunt and cousin for lunch Saturday – also work related. My aunt told me that when she first came here at 21, she stayed, along with three other people, in my parent’s two-bedroom. That made seven people in a one-bedroom. She said she never forgot my family’s kindness. Felt pretty good about that.

Told them about my family’s name, Luo. It turns out that China just forced another of my “relatives” to have a abortion at eight months. Reason #2,234,645,549 why I hate China.

As for me, came home and filled out the life insurance paperwork that’s been sitting on my desk for a month. Kept putting it off. I’m not that old and I don’t need 50 year old male life insurance, but I figure better safe than sorry and to have a policy of some sort. Afterward, called my pop.

Me: …so then she said that there were seven of us in the apartment.
Him: (laughing) Were there? I don’t remember. Oh, we were poor back then.
Me: Yeah. It was a long time ago.

Wish I had more time to write.

Then again, when I had time to write, wished I had more scratch.

They heard me singing and they told me to stop
Quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock
These days my life, I feel it has no purpose
But late at night the feelings swim to the surface

Location: my newly cleaned room
Mood: run down
Music: I need the darkness, someone please cut the lights
YASYCTAI: Prepare lunch. (10 mins/1 pt)
Subscribe!

Categories
personal

Anniversary II

I thought she was too tough to ever go away

Clock on 73rd and Broadway

This conversation happened around 1982.

Me: Is it dead?
Her: (taking cigarette out) Nah. (exhaling smoke and looking up) I think it just fell outta it’s nest.
Me: We have to help it, we have to get it back!
Her: Fine, fine. Hold on. (leaning over to pick up the robin in one hand and with her cigarette in the other, climbs up tree, deposits bird, climbs back down) There – y’happy?
Me: (beaming) Yes, grandma.
Her: (smiling then putting cigarette back in mouth) Good. Cm’on kid, your mom’s waiting.

We all thought y’were too tough to ever go away.

It’s raining here, which sounds about right

Location: my hot room
Mood: only ok
Music: And rain will make the flowers grow

Categories
personal

A semi-clean map

Your Map of the World

The UWS in early winter

As I once said, all emotional pain comes when your expectation of reality doesn’t match reality. A guy who knows his wife’s cheating on him regularly isn’t all that twisted when he catches them in the act, cause he was prepared for it.

So, my buddy in the last entry’s having a hard time dealing with his breakup. Makes sense – breakups are hard. This whole blog came about from my last major breakup.

But to make it easier – the pain that is – I changed my map of the world.

Imagine you had the job of erasing the word “Broadway” from every map you got. That’s a tough task. And when you’re done, the faint lines of the word’s are still there. But it’s gone for the most part.

Dunno if you know this, but I paid for law school fixing computers and networks.

A computer doesn’t actually read a whole harddrive to find the data it wants, it has a map, a table of contents, that lists every file it has. When you want a file, it looks it up on the map, goes to where it is, and pulls it out.

When it deletes a file, all it does is erase that one line on its map. The file’s still there, it just doesn’t know it.

When you wanna get a file back, you can sometimes cause it can figure out what on the map’s changed.

My buddy won’t erase his map. I don’t blame him. It’s heartbreaking and hard.

But Broadway’s gone. He’s gotta scrub his map. If she comes back, that’s great, the faint lines will be there and he’s got a semi-clean map ready for her.

If she doesn’t, well, he’s still got a semi-clean map to work with.

Either way, a semi-clean map’s a good thing.

Only the stalker and the starkers say that Broadway’s there when it’s not.

Location: 20 mins ago, outside shoveling
Mood: hot
Music: It’s hard to free the ones you love (Spotify)

Categories
personal

The Debt and the Deuce

Bar in the Lower East Side, NYC

 

Me: Man, I’m lit. Think we each had a pitcher of beer and three glasses of rum.
Him: (nodding) Did I do the right thing?
Me: Y’know, whether or not you believe in the Bible, the concept’s relevant here. Say you owe me a thousand bucks. And I tell you the debt’s forgiven. But you show up one day showing off your iPhone. Even if I don’t wanna, I’m thinking, This #@#$@ owes me one grand. How does he have money to buy an iPhone? And if I invite y’out to eat, you’re thinking, Ah, I don’t wanna, he’s just trying to rub it in my face that I don’t got no dough. Even if I’m not.
Him: (nodding) So I did the right thing.
Me: (sighing) She broke the trust pact. Let’s say she worked late one night – even if she was being honest, you’d think, Is she really working late, or is something else going on? You did the right thing – for botha you. It’s why I left my girl. Not just for me but for her too.
Him: Still hard though.
Me: Not saying it isn’t. Just saying that someone’s gotta pay the debt, man. Sucks it’s you, but there you go. (laughing) Look, when I broke up with my ex, my buddy Rick swapped out her number with his own just in case I caved and called her. Want me to do the same?
Him: (grinning) Maybe.

Most times, it’s best to throw the deuce, say Peace out, and cut it deep, cut it quick, and cut it clean.

Cause it’s better to be the star of your own movie, than have a cameo in someone else’s.

Location: yest, Malachy’s on 72nd
Mood: completely lit
Music: now we ain’t wastin’ time no more cause time rolls by

Categories
personal

Breaking up is hard to do

Location: home all day
Mood: coughy
Music: just can’t keep on running away so it stops today

Building on 42nd Street

Posting on Tuesday and Thursday mornings starting this Thursday (yawn).

———-

Her: (backing away) Please don’t eat that.
Me: It’s fine.
Her: I’m begging you not to eat that. It’s got to be rotten.
Me: It’s fine. I’ll microwave it, it’ll kill everything.
Her: (gagging) I can’t…I can’t…
Me: (pressing buttons) What? I’ll put mustard on it. It’ll be fine.
Her: (exiting kitchen) I’m gonna be sick…

Me: (opening microwave) It’s fi..whoa. Maybe that is bad. (thinking) Nah…

———-

Windows;

Yes, it’s true. It is Mac. Didn’t mean for it to happen. Just did. Your suspicions were right, we were together those times when my brother brought her by the place.

If it makes it any better, dunno why it might, it’s not like I traded in for some younger model as she’s older than you. Say this cause I know that her looks have made you jealous in the past and wanted to tell you that you look, honestly, as good as she does or even better now. The work that you had done late this month was really stunning. Really.

But – it’s not been your looks. It never really has. It’s just the times you left me hanging. Waiting. Hoping that this time, this time would be different.

And it just never was.

Gave you everything y’asked for: RAM, done. Bigger Harddrive, there. Speedier videocard, bam. Never enough.

And a relationship’s not just about the parties involved, it’s also what they come with, their family’s. The Dells, the Toshibas, the HPs – the HPs were the worst – they were, to be polite, never what they seemed to be.

We spent almost 20 years together – 20 years! Defended you when everyone was against you. But y’never did the same for me.

Can’t take the constant disappointments. Waited until now, after your latest operation and, like I said, you look and work amazingly. Sometimes, a relationship’s too damaged to repair. too little, too late.

Y’still have your admirers and your new looks. But I gotta go and do right by me. Not outta your life forever, though. Y’can’t just walk away from two decades of shared memories just like that.

But you’re not my number one gal anyone and for that, I’m sorry. Can’t spend another two decades waiting for you to get it right.

Logan
YASYCTAI: Back up your data – it’s your digital life. (60 mins/1 pt)

Categories
personal

Leigh Sakoda

Apologies, I interrupt our usual nuthin for a quick something.

If you’ve been reading this for any amount of time, y’know that real names are verboten. Unless there’s a good reason.

This was Lee – Leigh Sakoda, actually. She wasn’t a close friend, or a dear friend. She was, however, someone that I spoke to every day for two years at my old gig. And never will again. That means something to me.

Wish I dropped her a line like I said I would. That means something to me too.

Since I got no scratch right now to send her way, putting this up for now, to remind me to do it when I do.

In my head, she looked like that pic above, always smiling. The world’s lost a good soul.

Back to the usual nonsense tomorrow.

Nite, Lee.

Location: 2 hours ago, stabbing someone in the throat in the UWS
Mood: still pensive
Music: to everything there is a purpose

Categories
personal

Conversations on life

The Clock at NYC's Grand Central

Me: How high’s your blood pressure?
Her: XXX over XXX.
Me: HOLY COW! Eat some oatmeal, mom!
Her: I can’t, I’m having a mango.
Me: (exasperated) I didn’t mean right now…
———-

HG: Why couldn’t you sleep?
Me: Was screwing around online and got a notice from a friend that a girl I worked with passed away. She just got married. Cancer. Thing is, had her email addy the whole time. Kept thinking I’d drop her a line but..never did. Dunno why.
Her: (patting my shoulder) I’m sorry about your friend.
Me: She wasn’t a friend so much as someone I knew. But she always said “Hi” to me. It’s just that she was younger than me. Seems so unfair. Never woulda thought…

Still believe that A man’s dying is more the survivors’ affair than his own. But she was too young to go, I think.

Went to church this past Sunday. It’s hard to have faith in the big city.

It’s hard to have faith when you’re at an age where everyone’s getting older, people y’know die, madmen say’n do mad things. Doesn’t make any damn sense.

But there’s this song that has this line that goes, Thank goodness for the good souls that make life better. So I turn to you and I say, if it wasn’t for the good souls, life would not matter,
Him: Why does my daughter look Chinese, dude? She’s 1/4 Asian and it looks like there’s not a drop of black in her.
Me: It’s a girl! Congrats! And…um…I’ll be in Mexico…for the forseeable future.
Him: (laughing) I swear, if she starts talking a lot with her hands, I’ll find you.
Me: Don’t blame me that my people’s gene’s are strong.

Thank God for the good souls.

Bye, Lee. It sounds like you had lotsa good souls around and I hope they make it through this somehow. I’m sorry you had to go. You were way too young to go.

Location: 16:00 yest, turning onto Van Dam to go home
Mood: pensive
Music: Christ, I’m out of my mind

Categories
personal

The SOOR

A basketball court on a NYC rooftop

Me
: Realized why I don’t wear flip-flops out. Think it’s cause when I was a kid, used to and then when the other kids tried to beat me up, couldn’t run away fast enough.
Her: (immediately) Oh don’t worry, I’ll protect you now.
Went drinking with Nadi and Paul at his pad this past Saturday. Quite something when you start drinking at 5PM and call it a night at 10.

Things have been pretty good these days; clients’re slowly coming out of the woodwork. Been busy lately, not so must busy with coin production so much as busy with preparation for coin production.

Eh, tomayto, tomahto…

———-

Him: Gonna have the talk with her today, wish us luck.

Got no fewer than four friends that’ve had the SOOR (Status Of Our Relationship) talk.

Two got their walking papers, one got conditional employment, one got a permanent position – though, really, all good relationships’re temp-to-perm at some point, yeah?

Think maybe that’s why I was upset with onea my friends. Cause I felt like he already filled the position with some imaginary person and was just stringing the contestant along. But he says he wasn’t and he’s an honest fellow.

Frank Sinatra had this song I heard once where he said something like, doesn’t matter if you’re the dumper or the dumpee, sucks either way. Or not.

———-

Me: Can’t do it, my finger’s broken.
Him: (rolling eyes) Somethings always broken on you…

Lost my health insurance. This means no wrestling for me for now.

Still gonna fence though – grown men stabbing each other with pointy things, what could go wrong there?

Location: apparently Dante’s eighth circle
Mood: goodness, so hot
Music: been looking for something else. Duel it
YASYCTAI: Help me find that Frank Sinatra song! (60 mins/1 pt)