Glory Days

I know something you don’t know

Inigo Montoya: I admit it, you are better than I am.
Man in Black: Then why are you smiling?
Inigo Montoya: Because I know something you don’t know.

When you get beat up as often as I did as a kid, you either get all decked out in black and go Columbine, or you just learn how to fight. And for those of you that know me, I never do anything half-assed.

Bryson’s one of my best friends and was a striker like me. He outweighed me by 20-40 pounds but I was fast and flexible. We were always toe-to-toe. Until he started grappling. So I started too.

Then, a little after 9/11, I got injured. A kimura gone horribly wrong. Doc said I could either get surgery and lose 10% of my range of motion or rehab it and lose as little as 2%. Chose the latter. He said it’d take up to four years. It took seven. Stopped watching NHB stuff cause it made me sad. Didn’t wanna be one of those guys that spent his time talking about his glory days.

During those seven years, Bryson worked to the point that he’s a Pan-American Bronze Medalist. And he knew something his opponents didn’t – that as good as he was on the ground, he was even better on his feet. I knew that. My jaw knew that. Me? I stopped. Got fat. Settled down with a girlie.

The only place I’m still better than Bryson’s with a sword. But even then, he’s almost my match. We both know he’s better than me, he’s just too polite to ever say it. Some days, forget that I’m 35. Then my body reminds me. The last time I felt good about my right lead was in the mid-90s.

We spoke recently and he told me that he just got a similar injury. He finds out next week if he can roll again. I understood. Told him that he got seven years on me and he agreed. Small comfort, I know.

After we got off the phone, sat back and remembered when we weren’t old men. Instead, we’re in the muddy backyard of my college house. He’d swing on by, we’d laugh. Then we’d knuckle up and roll.

Man in Black: And what is that?
Inigo Montoya: I…am not left-handed.

Location: my parent’s living room
Mood: nostalgic
Music: hope when I get old I don’t sit around thinking about it


Three barns with white horses & sliding doors

Barn’s burnt down. Now, I can see the moon

Barn’s burnt down — now I can see the moon. – Mizuta Masahide

Worked this past weekend. Did manage to see Heartgirl for a bit – she said that I could mention her in this blog so long as it wasn’t anything terribly personal. So she’s back. On a related note, s’funny but about ten people unsubscribed since I stopped being single.

Heartgirl and I did have an interesting discussion about how Life works out. Year ago today I was queuing in Great Britain wondering what to do about losing all my scratch. She was doing some heavy thinking in Times Square.

She mentioned she loved Sliding Doors and In-a-Silver-Bag told me a story about a white horse. While I don’t think that everything happens for a reason, I do think that whatever happens in our lives sculpt us to be who we’re meant to be.

Having said that, had a terrible, terrible day. Said it before, out little lives are all just three things – health, wealth and relationships. It’s like our three barns. And onea my barns are always burning.

It’s hard thinking that there’s some good that’s gonna come outta this latest fire. Then again, realized this past weekend that, if my last major relationship didn’t supernova, never woulda started this blog, had the cool parts of the past 24 months, or met any of the people that matter so much to me now.

Also, never would have met Heartgirl. She alone’s worth the price of admission.

Well, her and the rum. Mostly her.

So…hoping that this latest fire is just my way to see Selene again and an excuse to drink some red, red rum.

Location: 19:45 yest, leaving office
Mood: terrible
Music: we got to do something about where we`re going

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Grow up already

The Devil always seems to come at just the right time with a wink and smile, doesn’t he?


Him: (sitting) Logan, I need a favour. (hands me an envelope)
Me: I hate it when people open with that. Especially you. (opens envelope) Oh this can’t be good…

Finally saw WALL-E last night. So cute.

Her: I wish we could just keep doing what we do.
Me: (thinking) You know how most guys wanna keep being a kid? I’m tired of being a kid, I wanna grow up already. I think maybe it’s time I grew up already.
Her: I like you though…
Me: (shaking head) That’s only cause I only show you the sides I want you to see.

My life is needlessly complicated. I’m hoping to simplify things shortly.

The forecast says rain all weekend.

Location: 6:00, awake at my desk, looking at phone
Mood: thoughtful
Music: it’s turning me to the count of girl who’d rather be alone.

business personal

Why do you hate me so?

Location: a new leather couch; not mine
Mood: hard to say
Music: baby I know we had a bad day and you are so mad at me

Spent part of the morning last week patching the roof on my building. Good thing I went to an ivy league. Got covered in tar; took me an hour to get it off before I had to run to a meeting. Musta smelled like a mechanic, which is not good considering I’m trying to land this client.

Speaking of clients, in About a Boy, Will had just enough scratch to pretty much stop working and just idly fill up his days. That was me for seven years. Not so much any more.

Me: OK, the account is locked. Don’t put anything else into the account, otherwise, it’ll trigger an audit by the bank, alright?

Client: Got it.

One week later

Me: (exasperated) The bank called and said you deposited $10,000. Do you remember our conversation?
Client: (puzzled) It’s just $10,000.
Me: “Just $10,000?” How’m I gonna explain this? Stop putting money into the account!
Client: Got it.

This morning

Me: (almost screaming into phone) You took the $10,000 outta the @#$@# account?!?!
Client: You said it didn’t look good if I put money in so I pulled it out.
Me: (slamming head repeatedly onto desk) Now we gotta explain how $10,000 magically came in and now left the account IN THREE DAYS! Where did it come from, where did it go?
Client: (angrily) You said don’t put anything else in – I didn’t! I took it out!
Me: (quietly sinking into chair) I see. Why do you…why do you hate me so?


If you look closely at the pic, you’ll see a faint contrail right above the first building. I remember taking it and wondering if they were coming or going.

Then again, I hardly know if I’m coming or going.



Do you queue, stand in line, stand on line, wait in line, or wait on line?

This is gonna be another tough week. It’s going to be like this for at least 45 days. I’ll let you know what’s going on when things settle.


Do you queue, stand in line, stand on line, wait in line, or wait on line?

The only problem with living where I live is all the endless queues. It’s maddening. Every Sunday I pick up a loaf of bread. I’m often temped to throw down four bucks and bolt. But I never do. I wait.

If it’s not for a chick, it’s for a loaf of whole grain, low-carb, wheat bread.

No, just this. No bag, thanks. Credit. I know. No, I’ve got a pen. Here. Thanks, you too.


I love the Bourne Identity films, which are much better than the novels – those are a hard read.

Spoiler – highlight below to read.

There is one aspect of the novels that I prefer to the films and that is that Marie isn’t killed. In fact, they’re happy and have two kids. I still don’t get why they killed Marie. She was my favorite character after Jason.

Ah, I’m such a sucker. I wait for things that’ll never happen.

Location: 8PM, yest, the LIE going east
Mood: worried
Music: I would stand in line for this


Anniversary / Year in Review



Him: You ok?
Me: Just thinking ’bout last summer.
Him: What about?
Me: (laughing) I feel free again.
Him: (disgusted) Don’t get all emo on me, dude.

It’s been exactly a year since I’ve started blogging. Had a different blog for a few weeks before I turned to this one.

Started it all because I was bleeding so much electronic ink anyway back then. Somehow, it’s morphed into what you see now.

Been in a good mood lately because I’ve had some time to reflect on the year. I wonder what my life would have been like if the ex and I stayed together – I think we’d have bits of happy with shades of miserable.

If we stayed together, though:

  • I never would have met Somena or L, (both of whom I met in bars – weird). I also wouldn’t be so chatty with KGBetty, Hazel or Nadi. With them plus new girls like Burn, I’ve got an awesome set of female friends.
  • I probably wouldn’t see the Zu Boys, Giovanni, Bryson, Hipstomp, Captredstar, Sheridan, Paul or any of the other guys nearly as much.
  • I wouldn’t have dated all the people I’ve dated – dunno if that’s good or bad. I’d probably have more scratch but less interesting stories.
  • I would never have dated the girl with blue jean eyes, which, for all it’s ridiculous drama, I still think of fondly. I should tell you that after we broke up, I got hooked on mac’n cheese cause of her.
  • I wouldn’t have gotten into photography.
  • There’d be no 72nd to Canal.
  • I wouldn’t know the joy that is aged dark rum on the rocks with a slice of orange.
  • I would have died having only kissed 10 women in my life – huh…
  • Probably still be driving my ride.
  • Harold’d still be a salad buffet.

Mostly though, I wouldn’t have this blog. You wouldn’t be reading me; I wouldn’t be writing this.

There’d be no you and me.

Funny thing is: I intended to only write this for a year, at most. Figured I’d run outta things to say to the three people that read me if I posted, say, every two days or so.

Now, I look forward to these daily conversations with you. Like I said, 8.2 million people but few connections.

Check it out: just for now, we’ve traveled through time (I wrote this before you read it) and space (I’m here, you’re there) and we’re connected. Writing is more than just words strung together – writing is telepathy.

You may think I’m vain, a womanizer, a hypocrite, awesome, humble, self-involved, brilliant, stupid, what-have-you,

But I’ve tricked you, you see; It’s quiet now, And I made you think of me.

The very last thing said at the end of this 80s flick called Heaven Help Us is by Ed Rooney. After everything, he’s a shampoo boy at a Bensonhurst hair salon, where the hours suck, the pay sucks, and I’m surrounded by ‘funny guys’, but the tips are great! Thank you, God!

It’s sucked a lot from there to here but I don’t think it could have played out any differently, or better, really.

One last movie quote. In You’ve Got Mail, Kathleen writes to Joe:

The odd thing about this form of communication is that you’re more likely to talk about nothing than something. But I just want to say that all this nothing has meant more to me than so many somethings.

I’m not on the other side yet, but I think I’m on my way.

Without getting too emo, thank you, very much, for reading me.

I’ll keep writing…

Thank you, God.
Location: here, telling you something important to me
Mood: grateful
Music: I’ll be back in the high life again
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Which one are you?



Saw a sneak preview of The Kingdom on Monday. It had it’s good and bad points but I gotta say that the fight scene with Jennifer Garner is worth the price of admission.

Totally hot. Totally.


Me: So you think she was saying that she was gay to get rid of me or what?
Nadi: Nah, that’d make it more conversation, not less. If she just wanted to get rid of you, she’d have just said she had a dude.
Me: True. Hmmm, I wonder if…
Nadi: Oh stop, you’re not gonna change her. That’s every man’s dream.
Me: (laughing) Maybe we should eat there some…
Nadi: (rolling eyes) Sheeyeah, Logan – riiiiiiight…

Him: You’ve never heard that before? Look, everyone turns into one of the Seven Dwarfs when they drink. Like me, I’m Sleepy Dwarf. So, which one are you?
Me: (thinking) Is there a Friendly Pirate Dwarf?

Location: 9PM, getting slashed at in the UWS
Mood: content
Music: Don’t wake me i plan on sleeping in
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New York in the Indigo

When Harry Met Sally is just a film, it’s not the real world

I’ve been sitting here working all damn day. At least it’s the weekend. Hazel took this picture a couple of weekends back at the 7/7/07 rooftop party. Time’s just sprinting by.

People email me asking why Hazel, Somena, or any of my other female friends and I don’t just get together.

It’s because When Harry Met Sally isn’t the real world or the NY I know. In my NY, guys can have three types of female friends: former somethings, just friends, and potential somethings.

In my life at least, we all know the parts we play.

A guy like me won’t end up with a chick just cause she’s around. And vice versa.

Who wants that? That’s like when you eat the crap in the fridge because you’re too lazy to go out so you think, Eh, it looks ok.

I’ve had crazy love before. Once you’ve had that, everything else is a distant second. If you’ve ever been loved, you know. You won’t take less.

Dean Martin knew that you can never really go home to Steubenville after you’ve seen the lights of New York.

I’m alone, yeah.

But I’m not lonely.

OK, back to work…

Location: my black chair, all %#@! day
Mood: beat tired
Music: It ain’t no big thing But I know what I like
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Semper Fidelis

All bad things start from disloyalty


To continue from my last post, there’s this movie people either love or hate: Bride with White Hair. In it, the protagonist jokingly promised his chick that he would get her a flower one day that only bloomed once every twenty years on a snow-capped mountaintop. Later in the story, he betrays her.

To make amends, he sits in the snow, alone, in front of this plant for ten years, waiting for it to bloom. For her. Fool boy.

A friend recently gave me a drunken compliment: Logan’s got his issues but he’s f___ing loyal. If I was locked up in a cell in Panama and I had one call, he’d be it.

High praise.

See, anything bad that could happen starts with disloyalty, yeah?

Cheating, lying, stealing, it all starts from there. You can’t get there without being disloyal first.

The goods? Love, respect, trust – you can’t get there without being loyal first.

That’s why I’ve never cheated on anyone. It’s also why I never speak ill of anyone after we break up. At it’s most basic, it’s disloyal.

Unless the reason we broke up comes from disloyalty. Then, screw it. Screw them.

Yeah, I got my faults. I got a whole blog of faults. But what he said made my drunken night.

Cause the people that know me, they know I’d sit on a mountain top and wait. It might be a mountain of brick and mortar, but there I’d be.

Cause they know that I’m on their side. I’d wait.

And for my family, a good friend or a chick I loved, I’d never move.

Location: a bed with flowers on it
Mood: sick
Music: on this mountain thinking to myself You’re a fool boy
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Insomnia is a special form of torture

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

– Robert Frost

I’ve not told you everything, I’m afraid. Not so much a lie, more an omission.

You see, I had another blog. No, I won’t tell you where it is, I’m sorry.

But I just thought of it recently and I read through it for the first time in almost a year.

I slept another full four hours last night. I went to bed at three and woke up at seven. I wonder how long a body can last with so little sleep. There’s a line from Fight Club that goes, “With insomnia, nothing’s real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy.” That’s how my days and nights feel like. I’m not so much living in my world as existing in it.

Good god, nothing’s changed.

Location: midnight, leaving subway
Mood: exhausted
Music: Can you tell me how we got in this situation?
NOTE: I shot this video last week when I was out every night. I’ve gotten some sleep since then. Thanks for the concern!
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