Tag: hope

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personal

Becoming couth

Cocktails in the UWS, NYC

Like everyone else, we got caught up in the lottery fever.

Her: Shoot, our Powerball was “24” and the last winning Powerball was “24.”
Me: So we have ten tickets that have the same Powerball as the last winning ticket? I’ll just grab a quick-pick.
Her: (later) So? What’s our new Powerball number?
Me: 24.

Got good luck nor bad luck; just strange luck. This time, didn’t even win a dollar.

———-

Me: It’s nice spending time together.
Her: Yeah, in the five minutes you’re not on your computer.
Me: Three minutes. I have deadlines.

HG and I found time recently to chill out and watch Food Inc. It should be required viewing for all Americans – we really are too far removed from our food.

We also saw this flick called The Double, which we really enjoyed but got critically panned. On a related note, we struggled to get through The Descendents and have zero interest in The Artist.

We’ve come to this conclusion: those films that are critically acclaimed, we just don’t find all that interesting while the films that critics hate, we seem to enjoy.

Evidently, we’re uncouth.

How does one become more couth?

Location: running all over the joint
Mood: finally not sick
Music: wanna pillowfight in the middle of the night
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personal

2011 Year in Review / Thanks


CS Lewis once said that, The future is something which everyone reaches at the rate of 60 minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is.

With the utmost respect to Mr. Lewis, there’s something about the world, when you get a certain age, where hours seem to drag but the years seem to fly by. 2011’s almost over and it feels like it just began.

In 2011, I:

  1. Made five resolutions. Kept three of them.
  2. Got married. (!)
  3. Got food poisoning for the third time in my life.
  4. Turned 38. (!)
  5. Had a second wedding celebration.
  6. Had a third wedding celebration wedding celebration and a fourth one as well. Man, we are just fulla ourselves – and then traveled to Europe to give some lectures.
  7. Nuthin really happened in July, just a lotta quiet summer weekends in NYC. But man, was it hot.
  8. Went to Bermuda, then dealt with Irene.
  9. Gave another lecture and spent a lotta time in the Down Town Association.
  10. Finished my manuscript. (!)
  11. Had my first Thanksgiving without going to my parents and instead had it with my wife (and sister-in-law – both of which I’ve not had in previous Thanksgivings).
  12. Made this here self-referential blog entry.

There are a few things that I keep to myself that I don’t put here just for a small semblance of privacy.

For example, I had six resolutions actually, the sixth was to marry Heartgirl. But I couldn’t actually put that up when I made those resolutions.

On the topic of Heartgirl, don’t think that I’ve ever said I love her publicly. Love is a word we all banter around; for example, I love rum and chili. Not together, per se, but conceivably even then.

Think it’s kinda obvious how I feel but maybe that’s just what it is in my head. But I do. Love her, that is.

She’s who I’ve been looking for since I was a fat kid in Flushing, NY. My person I can’t put inna words. And I’ve tried many times and yet I can’t.

So I won’t try. Instead, lemme say again that life’s a tragedy fulla joy and that she’s my greatest joy. She’s also funny, smart, and easy on the eyes, all of which doesn’t hurt.

Finally, I want to say thanks to her. For being the person to whom I don’t gotta prove my worth and for making sure I always have someone with whom to spend New Year’s Eve.

As for you, as always, thanks for reading.

Well then, it’s almost 2012.

Off we go…(!)

Location: the end of 2011
Mood: psyched
Music: Ah, but I thought I’d ask you just the same
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personal

Thanksgiving 2011 – it’s always darkest before the…?

Man walking in front of a church off Times Square, NYC

You could skip this entry altogether and just click this entry here instead.

———

Danger – slightly religious post below:

Had a really strange day. A owner in my building refused to fix an $11 toilet handle resulting in hundreds of dollars in damage to the rest of the building. She’s a self-professed “good but misunderstood person.”

I submit that if you ever have to say the words, “I’m a good but misunderstood person,” you’re most likely neither.

Speakinga stuff y’say, there’s this saying that it’s always darkest before the dawn. But I think it’s always darkest before the storm. Meaning that no matter how dark it gets, it can always get darker. Still, figure that if you know this, you can outlast it.

Saw my friend Johnny in the middle of the night – this Thanksgiving he didn’t physically punch me the gut. But he still hit me there.

Cause he’s onea the people in the hospital I told you about. In the middle of an empty room save the two chairs we occupy, he says he’s gonna be ok. We’ve known each other 20 years, I say.

Me: You gotta be ok. It’s hard having friends for this long in this life.
Him: I’m ok, man. (pause) Been reading the bible. Trying to understand stuff.
Me: No kidding. (thinking) In all these years, we’ve never talked about God, yeah? Cause I figure that we all meet God on our own terms. But can I tell you what I think?
Him: Sure.
Me: The point of the bible, I think. Is that unlike any other religion I know, the people that live good lives – the best lives – get ____ed. Jesus get nailed to some planks to die in agony, John the Baptist gets decapitated as a party favour, Job loses everything just so God can tell a good story. It goes on. I think it says we’re promised nuthin but misery and if you get any little bit of joy, you should be grateful, because it’s still more than we’re promised.
Him: If that’s the point of the bible, what’s the point of it all? Life?
Me: (thinking) Maybe – and what do I know – we’re no different than the rocks and trees and there isn’t a purpose. Or maybe it’s that we can choose to repay the aether somehow and that both makes us different and gives it and us purpose. Maybe the point is that we do good things to make the world a little less unfair and we do it to give our own lives meaning. Maybe nonea us own anything, we’re just supposed to take carea everything for the next guy. We’re supposed to leave this joint here better than when we arrived. Maybe that’s the point, Johnny.

Say it every Thanksgiving – that it’s about making our lives better by making life better. I think that’s the meaning of it all.

Have a Happy Turkey Day, all.

And if you’re reading this from a place without a Turkey Day, you should still have some turkey.

 

httpv://youtu.be/WbN0nX61rIs

Location: home
Mood: good
Music: am done with my graceless heart so tonight I’m gonna cut it out and then restart
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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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What you’re lucky enough to get is never enough

No matter how much time you get, you always wish you had more

Pumkins in the Village, NYC

Him: Wait, how old are you?
Me: 38. Why, how old are you?
Him: 23.
Me: I think I hate you.

I own some Apple stock. And when I say “some” I mean a pittance. Like enough to buy a really good dinner at a five-star restaurant in the City.

Whenever my stocks go up, feel that greedy urge in me go: Man, I should have bought more. There’s always that feeling that what you’re lucky enough to get, is never enough.

Was wrestling the other day with some Asian guys. The thing with Asians is that it’s always hard to tell how old they are – even for ourselves. While we look young, though, it’s just the appearance. Time just keeps on going.

Which goes with my formula that Time¬=Money; Time>Money. And here the greed’s even greater cause no matter how much time y’get, you always wish you had more.

Read the eulogy that Steve Job’s sister wrote for him. It’s very moving – if y’get a chance today, you should read it. His last words I find especially profound in their honesty and simplicity.

I wonder, then, if there’s a time that we become ok with the amount of time we’re allotted.

Hope so. Not afraid to admit that it scares me. The not knowing.

November 2011, already. Where does the time go?

———-
And now for some levity – think the same is roughly true for Asian men:

How Asians age

Location: surrounded by blueprints and surveys
Mood: slightly anxious
Music: My scarecrow dreams When they smashed my heart into smithereens
YASYCTAI: Read that eulogy. (10 mins/0.5 pts)
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dating personal

How to get the person you want most of all

Downtown NYC

Don’t have any comment on the Casey Anthony trial. It shocks me a bit how nothing shocks me anymore. Although, it does provide the useful lesson that, if you’re gonna commit a heinous crime, try to be pretty(ish), young, and white. Or a celebrity. Pick one.

———-

This monk named Thomas Merton once said that, The biggest human temptation is to settle for too little. Think that’s totally true.

Got three friends, all of whom wanted to get good at dating. But they just stopped after a few months because they all just ended up with people that were good enough.

One of them told me that his girl didn’t want a guy that treats dating like an occupation. Which’s yet another onea those things that sounds good on a superficial level but doesn’t make any real sense.

I treated it like an occupation – more a hobby, really, but I’m going for parallelism here – started meeting people in September of 2006 and continued to be single until September of 2008. Two years and some 150+ dates later.

And it sucked. It makes you weary. And you have to be coldly dispassionate. The constant hellos and goodbyes.

But If it’s important, and valuable, it doesn’t come easy. Nuthin worth anything comes easy.

Early on, when I started dating, kept repeating favourite quote: With increased intelligence, comes increased capacity for pain. If you’re smart enough, you learn to push all that doubt to the side of your mouth. You get up, go out, and take your chances. S/he’s not going to just show up knocking. Most of all, you deal with the pain.

Bookmarks Lounge bar on top of the Library Hotel in Midtown NYC

Him: How do you know we’re gonna end badly?
Me: I don’t know. But I figure it will Cause I saw the first movie. In this sequel, all of the characters’re the same. You’re still you, she’s still her. Everything’s the same. Why would it be different this time around unless onea you were radically different? You were both single for just 35 days. How different could either of you be? You went back cause it hurt too much, and I understand that. But you deal with the pain to give her, and you, time to be different. 35 days’s not enough time. You should have waited and met more people.
Him: You met all those people, what’d that really get you?
Me: (shrugging) The girl I wanted most of all.

Location: desk, trying to not be insanely hot
Mood: insanely hot
Music: we brave bee stings and all And we don’t dive, we cannonball
YASYCTAI: Don’t make Casey Anthony a millionaire. Don’t buy her book, listen to her interviews, etc. Don’t reward evil. (20 years/0.5 pts)
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Logan’s 38 / What you pay for being alright

Logan LoJust check’n if all my hair’s still there.

Joe: Did they hurt you in there, Mitchel?
Mitchel: Not so you’d notice.
Joe: They hurt me in there, Mitchel.
Mitchel: I know they did, Joe. It’s all right now. Here. (gives him money)
Joe: You don’t have to do that.
Mitchel: Yes, I do. It’s a tax you pay for being alright.

— London Boulevard (film)

You know you’re old when you fondly remeber being 30.

Started this blog five years ago because of my breakup. Then it somehow morphed into my admittedly peculiar dating life punctuated with some really cool highs and some awful, awful lows. Now I’m just a boring married guy.

But at some point in the future, there’ll be more really cool highs and some more awful lows. It’s all about waiting for the next high, I suppose.

I’ll take the awful lows, though – as best one can. And I’ll try to do my own little bit to contribute something to world. It’s all parta the same thing anyway.

Think the above quote’s spot on, paying back to the aether’s the tax you pay for being alright. Isn’t that what a tax is? It’s what you pay to be alright.

I’m alright right now, and feel the need to pay a little more this year. Duuno what that is but I’m looking.

Having said that, you know the drill. Wish me a happy birthday and say something, all of you bastards that read me but never say anything.

Location: home, listening to the rain outside
Mood: hopeful
Music: One girl, one boy, Some grief, some joy
YASYCTAI: Oh, you know… (60 mins/1 pt)
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Our wedding day

Me: You ready?
Her: Yes.

The funny thing about picking a wedding date’s that you’re really picking an anniversary. We figured February’s always dreary so why not have a good reason to look forward to it?

———-

Last week, I took three last minute assignments for work. Combined, it was the equivalent of what I’d make in three weeks in three days so I couldn’t say no. Course, that meant that I was up until midnight each night working and then fighting the insomnia.

One client finished without a hitch on Tuesday but the second client needed the work product on Thursday morning so wrote it all up and packaged it for him to pick up in exchange for a check at 10:30AM.
We woke up on Thursday and while Heartgirl got ready, I finished up. The client pulled in front of my building and I hopped in.

Me: (handing him papers) Here you go. It should have everything you need.
Him: (pulling out check) Thanks for the quick turnaround on this Mr. Logan. You’re really getting married this week?
Me: Not this week. In 90 minutes.

Took his check, shook his hand, then popped out to zip back home to get ready – the great thing about being a fella’s that y’can get dressed to the nines in nine.

Her: Men. It’s not fair.

Just before I turned off the computer, shot a contract to the last client and him I’d be offline until the weekend.

Cabbie dropped us off at Worth and Centre where her sister was waiting for us. We went inside to speak to the guy at the desk; some lady was yelling him for some reason. After all the yelling, he turned to us, asked us for some id and our paperwork. After he checked it all, gave us a number, C930, and we took a seat.

45 minutes later we sat in the west room chapel and waited. We looked at the books from the 1940s where people signed their names. Everything’s all digital now. A smiling lady came in and told us to stand in front of the podium.

“Do you take this…”
“I do.”
“I do.”

Maybe 59 seconds later we were legal. We hopped a cab up to the London Hotel, which turns out not to be in London but rather in midtown, NY. Her sis took us out to eat and we ended up having a two hour lunch before she took off for home.

We then went upstairs to our suite where we did what all newlyweds have done for hundreds of years – we watched Robin Hood on Netflix. She passed out before it was over.

Met up with RE Mike that Friday night and checked out the space he rents. He and the restaurant owners brought us a coupla bottles of champagne. Told the owner that I’d return the favour with a bottle of good rum.

Spent the resta the weekends trying out the words “husband” and “wife.” Quite surreal, lemme tell ya.

Both sets of parents were thrilled – always a good sign.

Told her to tell her parents to rest easy cause I’d always take carea her and do mosta the cooking.

She is, after all, family. I’d keep her safe.

Location: in fronta stacks of paper
Mood: good
Music: There’s a hole in my pocket that’s about her size but I think everything’s gonna be alright
YASYCTAI: Spring cleaning soon. (120 mins/1 pt)
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Logical issues in stories / writing

Graffiti Madonna in downtown NYC

Her: What’re you doing?
Me: Installing a HDMI splitter to power the 47 and 26″ monitors, upgrade the ram, and dupe the old harddrive to a two terabyte drive.
Her: Oh…well, I was just building a flux-capacitor in the bedroom so…

Well, writing this blog in the middle of the day doesn’t work and I’ve got a full Monday schedule for the foreseeable future so back to publishing in the AM.

Speakinga writing, been working on my manuscript like a madman; actually trying to submit it to a writing contest soon. Problem was that there were a buncha logical issues that had to be resolved, which is parta the reason it was put away for so long.

A logical issue’s when something in a story just doesn’t make sense and yanks the reader/viewer outta the story. For example, just saw The A-Team film the other day. Wasn’t expecting Shakespeare but there’s the one scene where (1) a tank falls outta a plane, (2) hits a body of water, (3) everyone insides survives, and (4) a few minutes later, they’re driving on dry land.

Assume, arguendo, that the first three are possible; the fact is that if a tank fell into a lake, it’d sink to the bottom, and it’s engine would fill with water. It’d be impossible for them to then drive the tank onto dry land.

This was such a glaring error that the rest of the story was unwatchable – even though I could suspend disbelief enough that a tank could fly (don’t bother asking), couldn’t do it once that happened.

Figured out how to kill a character last year; now I’ve gotta have another one leave the story without getting offed.

Think that’s why science fiction’s so alluring; y’can resolve a lotta these logical issues by just saying that’s what happens in that world.

Stupid crime fiction…

———-

Got a non-canonical entry tomorrow, see you then?

Location: Midnight, sitting in front of a keyboard
Mood: hopeful
Music: all winter we got carried away over on the rooftops
YASYCTAI: Take those chances. (1 minute/3 pts)
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How to keep your 2011 resolutions

So how was your NYE? HG and I were feeling under the weather so we just stayed in and watched Inception. We’ve become a boring couple – which is a rather nice thing to be, actually. Did go out the night before to my friend Paolo’s for a pre-NYE party.l

A fella came up to me and said he read my blog. It was actually the high point of my night; it’s great when someone tells you that you did something that connected with them.

For this new year, made a list of goals rather than resolutions – after all, it’s important to have a target so you have something to aim for, yeah? I think how to keep these 2011 resolutions is to make them more specific and keep them manageable. And only have a handful.

Most times, just kept these goals to myself but when you put something out into the aether, it makes it more concrete. So here we go:

1. Finish manuscript within 60 days.
It’s been almost a decade since I started it so it’s about time; gonna slow down on other things to get this done. Inception blew me away with it’s complex storytelling. Gotta get in gear.

2. Practice German for 30 minutes a day, five days a week.
In the past decade my German has, if anything, gone down. Thought I’d be fluent by now.

3. Learn three new Chinese characters a week.
Ditto – can speak poor Chinese and German but am illiterate in both.

4. Wrestle three times a week.
Again, a decade’s gone by without much improvement.

5. Practice fencing 15 minutes a day
Think 15 minutes is manageable.

As for more general goals, plan to lose a little weight, invest more, actually have a wedding, and get more clients for the law firm. But the above are the big ticket items for me.

Just said that what we say of things in our heads make them real or not; might as well make them positive things. So, off to read some German for the next 30 mins while I get to work.

Also los!

Location: the beginning of 2011
Mood: ambitious
Music: there’s reason to believe Maybe this year will be better than the last
YASYCTAI: Make a list of manageable goals for 2011. (60 mins/2 pts)
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