Tag: New York City

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personal

Can you hold this for me?

Location: my black chair in my pad
Mood: awake
Music: I know I’ve got to let it go and just enjoy the show

It appears that the weekend life of a reforming womanizer’s pretty boring and may involve: leaving parties at 12:30, picking up women for friends, cleaning the house and eating one’s weight in blueberries. Alla which are far more entertaining with a Dark ‘n Stormy.

Told you before that I’ve done some awful things in my life. Most I can’t talk about. But one thing I’m deeply ashamed of is the number of times someone gave me their heart and essentially said, Here, can you hold this for me? And take carea it, willya?

And I nod and immediately turn around, stomp the crap outta it and hand it back a wreck. It’s a jerk thing to do. And I did it way too often in my 20s.

Course, someone did it to me two years ago and nuthin realigns your thinking faster than eating the stuff you make someone else eat, yeah?

That’s why I keep thinking of Caligirl and if she’s right. What if I really do screw everything up so I don’t have to go through it again? Sir Edmond Hilary once said that, It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.

It’s not easy, trying to be a better than you once were.

YASYCTAI: Get your shoes shined. They’ll last longer and you’ll look better. Hurry, before it’s winter. (10 mins/1 pt)

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personal

If only for a while

Her: (exasperated) LOGAN! When I tell you to go out to go out and check on my friend, I don’t mean make a pass at her!
Me: In my defense: (a) you weren’t totally clear on that point, (b) you know what I am.

Busy weekend. New roomie moved in. Work drama My brother came to see me too; we hung out with PB, WM and Kathy for a fashion designer’s party. Met a blondie that went to the same grade school as me and lives around the way. I asked her to tell me a secret and she told me a sad one.

Sunday, spoke to HEI and told her that, while I didn’t lose anyone very close to me in 9/11, can’t leave it behind me. And I wanna. Also spoke to Heartgirl, who said she saw a lotta street beef over the weekend. In the backa my head, thought, I can understand, a little, why there’s so much rage.

Speaking of Heartgirl, a conversation with her not that long ago sparked another one with someone else from my past.

Me: I was thinking maybe…maybe you were right.
Her: Oh, Logan, I’m not. I’m sorry.I didn’t mean it. All the cruel things I said.
Me: Ah…Caligirl, doesn’t matter. (pause) How’s married life?
Her: It’s nice. (faint laughter) You should try it some time…
Me: (pause) I’m trying. I’m trying so hard…
Her: (sadly) I didn’t mean…
Me: You did. (pause) It’s ok. I earned it. It’s only right. It’s only fair.You get what you give in this life. But I hope you’re wrong. Maybe you’re right but I hope…
Her: (interrupting) I hope I’m wrong too. We all deserve to be happy. If only for a while.

Location: my parent’s guest room
Mood: hard to say
Music: for a minute it lets me let it all go.

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personal

Any fool

Location: in my thoughts
Mood: so very sad
Music: A long, long time ago. I can still remember

Got a call from Rain earlier to get together today. Made me think. What I wrote last year still rings true.

Y’know, there was a TKTS booth in the World Trade Center. Was 17 when I first went there to pick up tix for me and my girlie. Les Mis.

There was an escalator going up to the booths and the lines would sometimes snake around the floor as people waited for their tickets. Had a red Aiwa cassette tape player to keep me company while I waited. Two tapes and a cassette player – way before Ipods, kiddies.

The people in those buildings were ordinary people like you and me. It’s why when Chrissie Hynde said, We (expletive) deserve to get bombed. Bring it on, I hope the Muslims win, I got sick.

Cause, it could easily have been me. Or even her. Or some 17 year-old kid buying a ticket for his girlie. Someone could have called me, or my brother, or my kid sister, and said, Hey, let’s get together downtown. That’s exactly what happened to my buddy Bryson. Luckily, he always runs late. My high school classmate wasn’t so lucky. Those sons of motherless bitches murdered him a few weeks before his wedding. Disintegrated rather. Nuthin’s left of him. Nuthin. Poof.

I hope they lose. Cause otherwise, fools like Chrissie can’t speak her mind. Even fools like her deserve the right to speak our minds, no matter how stupid. No matter how obscene.

Cause obscenities are fought with words not 747s filled with people – even if they’re just simple words from a clown. Or a heartbroken 30-something C+ class womanizer.

Goddamn. They punched a hole in my pretty city.

They punched a hole in my home that’s still there.

YASYCTAI: Watch the video above (9 mins/1 pt)

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personal

whoo-hoo?

I’ll be in LA in December or January helping a relative settle in.

Him: I left my job. Moving out to Cali.
Me: !
Him: ?
Me: whoo-hoo?
Him: Whoo-hoo!
Me: WHOOO-HOOO!!!!

Come to the conclusion that I need at least 84% more Whoo-Hoo! in my life. Got outta work at 19:30 today. No joy. Have a new client called King Happy Shrimp Rice, Ltd. Really. Just came in from fencing. Think I tore my ACL. Also, no joy.

That aside, I’ve been averaging about 18% Whoo-Hoo!, M-Thr, about 60% on Fridays, 90% on Saturdays and 60% on Sundays.

And even my Saturday Whoo-Hoo! is never consistent. Well, it is – just never in a good way:

Me: I’m gonna say 22.
Her: (surprised) That’s right. How did you know?
Me: Call it a gift. (thinking) Luckily for you, tonight I don’t care. My name’s Logan, and you are…?

Location: 19:29 yest, wondering why I’m not home
Mood: so freak’n tired
Music: Oh, yeah. It’s business time. It’s business time.

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personal

Our trespasses

 

In any relationship, there’s always the time when you’re faced with two competing, equally valid, points of view.

  • On the one hand, you should never accept piss-poor behaviour.
  • On the other hand, you should forgive people their screw-ups.

Friday, was supposed to see someone but she just completely flaked. Not even a text saying, Not showing up. Her explanation was that this is her reality – this is acceptable behaviour for her and her friends. Which only makes me believe more than ever that you are the company you keep. Should point out we got into what I thought was a minor disagreement but what she thought was a full on argument prior to the evening.

When we finally spoke, I was livid.

But here’s the thing: after all was said and done, she pointed out one time that I showed piss-poor behaviour. And she said she forgave me.

You know, every night, every single one, I ask to be forgiven our trespasses as we forgive those that trespass against us. These can’t be empty words. Cause, I gotta believe you’re more than just your thoughtless screw-ups. Cause, I gotta believe that I’m more than my awful things.

———-

Saturday, in the midst of a hurricane, see LisaV and her friends downtown at onea my favorite joints, a hidden bar called East Side Company. No signs, no lines. Just the number 49, baby. Meet her friend, a tall, hella attractive Asian girl and ask for her info – but it’s not for me; she’s exactly my buddy’s type. Sometimes, you take one for the team, yeah?

Sunday, meet up with Heartgirl for a last minute thing. Stop by her place and help her bake cookies and discuss Scrabble. We had The Talk but it was nuthin I didn’t already know. Put our shades on and we’re off to a BBQ in Brooklyn where we hung out with her friends. Nice group but more on that some other time.

Get home Sunday night with a belly fulla charred meat, fatty carbs and beer. Nice but in my head I think, Man, summer’s really not my season.

But fall, man…fall’s my season. Cannot wait to see my fall blue sky again.

Location: 16:20 yest, eating burger #2 in Brooklyn
Mood: beat
Music: I know enough to know when someone trusts you

Categories
personal

We know…

Location: 22:00 yest, walking down Broadway
Mood: still in pain
Music: And now I’m never gonna get to sleep

Me: Wait, did I make a pass at you the other night?
Her: (thinking) No.

Me: (relived) Thank goodness…

Her: I know!

Meet a pretty German girl Monday night on the way home. Woulda asked for her info but, as I said, I’m distracted. Naja, I say, angenehm…tschüss.

Get home, shower and run out the door to meet up with LisaV. We’re supposed to go to a church function but she can’t get outta work so we meet up at Mooncake Diner. It’s packed so we bounce to Excellent Pork Chop House for take out and head back to her place where her roommate’s painting. We inhale it all over conversation and a glass table. Surprisingly, it’s actually excellent.

Head out to meet up with an old friend but we can’t coordinate so I swing by Rain’s for some scotch. A photoshoot’s going on with some models so I take a few pics of them and his new canine friend before taking the long walk home.

Tuesday? Tuesday was a whole ‘nother story.

Too many faces and places in my head.
Some I wish would stay away.
Some I wish would stay this way.
With my luck, the ones I want to stay will go.
And the ones I want to go…we know…

Categories
personal

Distracted

Location: home
Mood: in pain
Music: Once again I found myself with my friends

Her: Home on a Friday? Want some company?

Me: (pause) I’m…I don’t think that’s a good idea.

Stayed in on Friday; just tired and irritated. Saturday morning, saw PCD for brunch. We ended up cooking and I made a frittata. Since she was a pro, I was flattered that she thought it was good. Went off to class and got a beatdown. I’m quite literally COVERED with bruises (do not click if squeamish). Should take up yoga. Or at least something that doesn’t involve people stabbing, slashing, kicking, choking, strangling and punching me. Yes. Yoga.

Spoke to Heartgirl afterward. She confided in me something and I was a bit touched. We’re more alike than she knows.

Saturday, LisaV invites me to a house party downtown. It’s a literal and figurative sweatbox. An hour in, a girl grabs me and sticks a huge bottle of tequila down my throat and, later, kisses me on the cheek – of course she’s 22. Before I leave, another girl leans in and kisses me too. Huh. Must be the tequila. Close out the night with this cool blonde that boxes and threw me a nasty uppercut. Impressive.

Note to self: Hang out with LisaV more often.

At 2:00, walk LisaV home across the LES. Woulda been terribly romantic if she wasn’t seeing someone and I wasn’t…so damn distracted.

Him: You didn’t get anyone’s number? Did you even ask?

Me: No…I’m very distracted.

Him: Dude, you gotta fix that.


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personal

You are a soul

You can’t sell your soul, you are a soul

Me: I’m sorry, come again? How old’re you?
Her: 18.
Me: (turning to WM) Yeah, I’m leaving.

Spent Friday out with Gio and WM around the UES. Not my scene.

Saturday morning, spoke with Heartgirl; that’s a post for some other time. Saturday night, saw PCD. She did NOT heed my advice and was hung over so we spent a very nice quiet night in the UWS.

Unfortunately, while writing this, I just found out that my grandma’s in the hospital. Was supposed to see her when that woman stole all my money.

You know when someone talks about selling your soul, or whatnot? That irritates me. Cause you’re not a body with a soul. You are a soul. You just happen to have a body.

My grandmother is no dainty grandma; she’s tougher than DeNiro and smokes more than he does.

But her body is betraying her and there’s nuthin I can do about it. She gave me my eyes.

I wanna hit something.

Location: in front of three computers
Mood: worried
Music: No need to say goodbye You’ll come back
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Between the lines

Her: My one problem is that I like boys with brown eyes but I want kids with blue eyes.
Me: Not up to date on Mendel but I’m thinking that won’t happen with a guy like me.

 

Thursday, meet up with WM and chat with Stephen, the bartender. His recipes for drinks are on Fine Living here.

Friday, see PCD – it’s nastier than summer’n hell so we stay in and rent In Bruges – not good. So we stop it and see Dr. Horrible online instead – so good! Make cole slaw and almost bogart the whole thing myself.

Her: Well, we’re both busy. I mean we’re seeing 700 other people.
Me: FIVE! I’m seeing five other people.
Her: (rolling eyes) I meant the two of us together are seeing 700 other people…

Saturday afternoon, go to the gym and get rocked. Take 16 tabs of ibuprofen, shower and dash down to see Heartgirl for dinner on the west side.

We get into a tiff because she misunderstands me – don’t wanna complicate things for her; her life’s complicated enough.

Me: People have done that to me. Hung around with me telling me that we’ll be friends when actually they’re just hoping that I’ll change my mind and like them in the way they want. It’s terrible. (pause) I won’t do that to you.
Her: (nodding) Yeah. (later) Don’t you dare put what we talked about in your blog, Logan.
Me: (stopping) What?!
Her: (turns and walks away) I hear things.
Me: (muttering) I’ve gotta change my name.

Walk her to her subway stop and then check my phone. 1AM. Early yet. Walk over to Maru and see old friends. It’s 3AM when I stumble home.

Sunday, am supposed to see Pretty Jenny but I screw up the times. Instead see family for an early dinner around the way. Heading home, run into a waitress I know who grabs my arm and pulls me in. The triathlon just ended and she’s in a good mood so she buys me a Bud.

Chit-chat before dashing off to church. The hazy heat pulls me into a hazy headspace and I daydream of conversations from the weekend before I snap back to reality. I’m ever between the lines.

Strolling home, a pretty lady sits on my stoop. She stands, smiles and waves at me. I laugh and invite her in.

Location: 6:20 – bed, doing situps
Mood: hella hot
Music: Too late, two choices to stay or to leave

Categories
personal

Harvard

Not everyone gets in

Here’s a post I did on the fire in my hood.

Her: I don’t understand. Why do these things keep happening to me?
Me: Cause you give your blessings away too early. I think of myself like Harvard: Anyone can apply, but not everyone makes the cut.
Her: I’m not like that. I fall quickly and hard; I’m very passionate. I like falling in love.
Me: How’s that worked out for you?
Her: (pause) Touche.

If your life isn’t as you want it, I submit that it’s that way cause, whether you’ll admit it or not, you’re getting something from it.

If you’re the victim, the doormat, the outsider, I submit that some part of you wants to be that way. Cause you know your lines, you know your cues. You know the role. And there’s a comfort in that.

Change is tough. Sometimes it’s easier to be the victim – to blame things outside your control. But it’s a crap role.

There’s this saying that goes, If you keep doing what you do, you keep getting what you get.

Expect more from yourself, then you can expect more from others.

Look, why don’t you give yourself permission be the person you wanna be already? Then this stuff’ll stop happening to you.

Location: 6:15, awake in my bed
Mood: content
Music: my tongue is sand until the iridescent band begins to play