Tag: nightlife

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.


Categories
personal

Lost

Location: 8:12 – arriving at work
Mood: confused
Music: I never meant the things I did

Me: You’re supposed to look before you cross!

PCD: (pointing at cross sign) I trust in the system!

We watch the Olympic ceremonies on Friday and go for a walk in the park. Saturday, wrestle and get can-opened by a smiling girl. 16 tabs of ibuprofen later, I crash two parties…

Me: There are three types of people in the world. Single, sorta single and not single.
Her: See that’s the problem in NY, everyone is sorta single. Which one’re you?
Me: (thinking) Hard to say these days.

…almost get into two fights, but don’t (not really, anywho)…

WM: It’s you, man. The same reason why that girl talked to you outside the bar is the same reason why those two guys wanted to fight with you.

Me: Howzit me?

Him: I’m telling you, y’give off a vibe.

…hurt some people…

Me: Are you crying?

Her: No.

Me: Are you lying to me?

Her: (pause) Yes.

…and go to church with LisaV, before I hit up a rooftop party with WM and Paul. Later, meet up with someone for a late night chat.

I should trust in the system. But I’m so lost. I need a sign.

Categories
personal

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

Categories
personal

1,000 Words

Location: apartment
Mood: rushed
Music: wait in driving rain For the bus that never came

Still gotta do my laundry at Rain’s for a buncha reasons too stupid to get into now. If you liked 72nd to Canal, he’s since moved on to other things. Check out this video and vote for him here.

Me: Turn around.

Him: Why?

Me: Cause I gotta wash the clothes I’m wearing.

Him: You’re not taking off your clothes in my apartment.

Me: (unbucking belt) Just turn around.

Him: You are not taking off your clothes in my apartment!

Me: It’ll be fine, just turn around. And hand me a towel?

Him: YOU ARE NOT TAKING OFF YOUR CLOTHES IN MY APARTMENT!

———-

My fourth of July was wet. Was on a friend’s rooftop with a bunch of people. Umbrellas all around.

Stood next to this blonde from Florida who was sure that I was younger than her but it turns out I’m eight years older. We exchanged numbers but don’t think I’m gonna ring her.

Got enough people and things on my mind as it is. Didn’t get to see any of the people I really wanted to see; which sounds about right.

The rest of the weekend was a blur. Tell you more but pictures are worth a thousand words.

Ergo, here’re 3,000 more words:

Categories
personal

Profitable but clumsy

We’ve got to speed things up in this hotel. Chef, if a guest orders a three-minute egg, give it to him in two minutes. If he orders a two-minute egg, give it to him in one minute. If he orders a one-minute egg, give him a chicken and let him work it out for himself.

Groucho – A Night in Casablanca

I’m profitable for June. Only by a couplea hundred bucks. Still…tiny win is better than no win at all.

———-

Me: Sit on this side.
Her: (shaking head) No, that’s what they do in Portugal and I don’t like that.
Me: (rolling eyes) It’ll just mean that I’ve gotta lean across the table to kiss you. And I’m terribly clumsy. I mean, I’ll still do it and you’ll like it. I’m just saying, we’re taking a risk.
Her: (laughs) You’re a weirdo.

Had dinner at the Maritime Hotel on Wednesday with Heartgirl and drinks round the meatpacking district. We’re supposed to go to Kanvas but it shut down. Of course.

Also seeing her Saturday, which is a big deal cause: (a) Fridays and Saturdays are for your friends and significant others and (b) she’s still not over her ex. And yet…Saturday night. I’m stupid like that.

It’s hard coordinating schedules – I’m always busy when they’re free or vice versa. Haven’t seen CakeDecorator, Blue-Eyed Girl or anyone else in a week.

Scored a Classic Room at the Borgata tomorrow but no girlie I’m seeing has made it to that, Hey, let’s spend a night at a five star hotel together, level so I just gave the room away. Even though no throwing down would be involved, I highly doubt that any of the women I’m seeing’d believe me if I told them that.

Not sure I believe me, come to think of it.

Location: bed
Mood: satisfied
Music: Honestly what will become of me

Categories
dating personal

Awful Things

Not your ex

Her: You know what? I’m not your ex. I’m me. (long pause) You’ve never done awful things in your life, Logan?

 

Get a surprising message on Friday from someone I was dating. We opted to be friends and she calls to tell me something I really don’t wanna know. So, I’m disappointed in her. Then again, she called cause she needed a friend and I wasn’t the friend I should have been.

So, I’m disappointed in me.

Go out for the usual fun and games for Friday. Some girl keeps grabbing my butt so I bounce early. Saturday, wrestled. That’s a whole entry on it’s own. Then I go to my cousin’s wedding. Could do without everyone asking me when I’m getting married.

Orbit around Heartgirl all weekend; more misunderstandings between us. We’re supposed to meet up but something comes up so she bails. Thing is, I’m slightly glad we didn’t meet up cause who she is in my head might not be who she is at all.

Then again, I’m not the man they think I am at home.

Her: Hey…what are you doing up?
Me: I’m always up. I’m at 6th & A, heading home. Look…I’m calling to say that I’m sorry.
Her: Thanks. (pause) I’m really glad you called. I’m really glad.

That’s WM the night before. Heartgirl wanted to watch the Eurocup so I arranged it for a friend of mine to show it at her bar. Since Heartgirl didn’t come, WM came and we caught the game. And talked about our many regrets.

Paul, WM and I’re great at parties. Cause the people that’re really great at parties are the ones that just wanna forget the awful things.

Location: my bed
Mood: tired
Music: I think it’s gonna be a long, long time

Categories
personal

It’s me

I’m not an ill-willed person

Since I lost my phone, I ran through all my old messages.

I’m sorry I couldn’t come…
Mr. Logan, this is…

Hey, it’s me…

The last one stopped me cold.

In response to the person that sent me an email a while back, the answer is: 24 hours. Sometimes less than that. Sometimes it just takes one screwup to go from being someone that calls and says Hey it’s me, to being a complete stranger.

———-

Yesterday, was out in Brooklyn grabbing some court papers. Not fun. Sheridan had a dinner to attend and the hostess wrote to him, “Make sure you invite Logan Lo!” He laughed and said I had to come. It was another catered affair with wealthy lawyers, entertainment people and artists.

The hostess was trying to set up Sheridan with people. She said that she would say, That’s a lovely dress/outfit, to indicate that the lady was available. Clever. People said she fixed up Kevin Klein and Phoebe Cates. Who knows?

A French waitress I briefly dated was there completely by random. Literally, completely unexpected. She told me to call her; told her I would.

Bounced early with this clothing manufacturer because Sheridan got us into the Hamptons party in midtown. It was thrown by the same guys that threw this and this. Open bar, beautiful people, the usual song and dance. Walking around, bump into the French waitress again! Call me; I will.

John Leguizamo was the guest of honor – and the host mispronounced his name, which clearly pissed him off. Had a lot on my mind, and rum in my system, so I really wasn’t into it. Sheridan and hopped before midnight. Walking up 10th Avenue, I rang someone.

Me: Hey, it’s me.
Her: Hey.

Location: 9:10AM, kitchen making coffee & eggs
Mood: busy
Music: I am not an ill-willed person I do not wish bad things for you

Categories
personal

My random nights

Her: (picking up hairclip on bookshelf) Wear this much?
Me: Was that there?
Her: It’s cool. (putting hairclip back) Every girl leaves something behind. Except me. I’m not going to leave anything behind.

I’m getting sued again by someone else. It never ends.

Tuesday night, skip fencing to see the pretty Hazel-Eyed Italian for a private party on a rooftop garden on Fifth Avenue. It’s a catered affair with an open bar and we pound rum all night in between getting massages and chatting with Pat Kiernan and his wife. HEI and I duck out to catch a late night flick. The next day, she tells me she’s not hung over at all. Ah, the power of rum.

Wednesday night, meet up with Elle at the South Street Seaport. She’d never been either and took me out for my birthday. We walk from there a mile or so to a friend’s place where we end up shooting the breeze until midnight. I tell her that most of the women I meet are usually bi-sexual. Or don’t want kids. Or are 22. Or don’t want to ever get married (like her). Or something. She laughs.

Her: We have a strange relationship, you and I.
Me: We do. Why? What do you think of it?
Her: (getting up and smiling) Bye, Logan.

Thursday. Wonder what the weekend has in store for us.

Location: 20 mins ago, Grand Central Station
Mood: thinking
Music: This city is for strangers Like the sky is for the stars

Categories
personal

NYC Boy

Rain and Scottie invite me to to a party uptown. Since he never heads uptown, had to say yes. Going there, meet a blue-eyed girl named Gwen who said she can’t tell who’s mad and who’s wearing a bluetooth headset. Contemplate giving her my number but we didn’t hit the pivot point so I don’t.

At the party, make my way across to my friends and run into pair of long legs before I find Rain.

Me: I just picked up the prettiest girl for you (turn to long legs and wave; she smiles and waves back)
Rain: (laughs)

We bounce into the bar in the pic where Scottie and Rain tell me that there’s something wrong with me cause I don’t sleep with the women I date.

Me: Guys call it “getting lucky,” right? I hate that. It’s a pathetic statement from pathetic men. Women don’t “get lucky” but men do. That’s ridiculous. Boys like me sleep with a girl cause we choose to, not cause we “get lucky.”
Her: I don’t approve.
Me: (shrugging and turning to Scottie) OK, I’ll sleep with you then.
Her: (pause) Take a number.
Me: Sheeyah…
Bartender: (interrupting and pointing at me) Your friend’s right. The guys that try to get lucky never do.

Soon, we pile into Scottie’s whip. When we hit Central Park, Rain jets. Earlier, mentioned I liked Rain’s leather jacket so as he exits, he takes it off and hands it to me. It’s yours, he says. Before I can protest, he’s already in a yellow going downtown.

He’s a good fella, that one. I’m wearing it below.

Once home, I get a message that Pretty Jenny and some others’re around the way but then onea my stories I thought ended drops me a line.

You should stop by here for a spell. It’ll break your heart, NYC in the Spring.

But it’s totally worth it. If only for the people and the violets in Central Park.

 

Location: 22:00, 1409 York Avenue
Mood: touched
Music: Take me on a trip, I’d like to go some day – take me to New York