Categories
personal

More Cowboys

Me on a toy

 

Me: Hey, step outside with me for a sec.
Him: Sure. What’s up?
Me: Just wanted to say thanks. When I was going through my breakup, thoughta what you told me about your divorce. How you came back one day to find an empty house. Was nice knowing that you survived the blow.
Him: (grinning) Glad I could help.
Me: Y’know, actually hoped it was you she was seeing behind my back. (laughing) Least you’re a decent fella, a successful lawyer and not half-bad looking.
Him: (laughing) Com’on, I think our ladies’re waiting.

Now, where were we?

A while back, wrote about cowboys. Seems every seven years, you lose more than half of your friends. The person you think of as your best friend only has a 30% chance of staying in that role.

One guy that made the cut was my buddy Steel; he got hitched in Central Park this past weekend. Appetizers included whole lobsters. That was the appetizer. Need to get invited to more weddings like that.

Steel’s like all of my good friends. Never really see them; we don’t interact much. But he knows that I’m onea the few people in the world he can always count on and vice versa. We’re different races but the same people.

That’s one of the main things about the Jaycee Dugard case makes me ill. Cause in addition to all of the sick things she had to go through – and they were seriously sick – she didn’t have her people. She didn’t have a family or friends. Real ones, I mean. What a terribly lonely way to go through life. Couldn’t sleep causa it.

Yet another reason, think I’m blessed – our dumb luck.

Speaking of blessed, thanks for the concern but said I was coming back, didn’t I?

If you read me, gotta think that there’s a good chance you’re onea my people too, yeah? Let’s face it, this is hardly an interesting blog and I’m not a scantily clad chick. But I suppose you read cause something I say makes sense to you.

Ergo, we gotta stick together.

Clumsy, geeky, optimistic dreamers’re rarer than y’might think in this world.

Lobster in Central Park!
Steel getting married

Location: 16:00 yest, my kitchen floor, scrubbing
Mood: concerned
Music: Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song

Categories
dating personal

Gone Fisher King (but coming back)

If only we could just pay the bill and go home

A red door from the East Village

 

You ever kinda just space out while walking or driving and just magically end up on your doorstep? Hold that thought.

There’s this great line from The Fisher King where the lead, who’s destroyed a buncha people’s lives, wails out, “If there were some way I could just pay the fine and go home.”

It’s never that easy. Did you ever complete that sentence, The purpose of life is?

My answer I actually told you once a while ago, except, I didn’t tell you. It was my dating philosophy: Leave people better off having met you. Note that I never said “women.”

Did it to try and help the world out; turns out it helped me out.

Thought I’d take this time to tell you some things, because I still get the occasional email asking.

  • The PCD is doing very well; we chat every so often. She’s one of my people, even though we never see each other. She’s also Beatrix from an old entry and you can read up on her love life here.
  • And the HEI is doing well too; she’s packed up and gone to see about a boy and a life out west. She drops me a line here and there.
  • Caligirl got married and that’s a story in itself.
  • Elle’s finding her way through the big city and finding herself along the way.
  • The Italian Lawyer, GES, the writer, human resources girl, and others I run into from time-to-time.
  • It was the SX’s birthday recently but she’s MIA. She, like most of them’ve left my Venn Diagram. Suppose that’s probably for the best.

Finally, there’s Heartgirl. She’s asked that I not write about her so I don’t but I think it’d be amiss if I didn’t. Because I’ve set her apart.

Spent the last hour trying to figure out how to tell you about her. I’ve decided that she’s my receipt.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still hustling for scratch, several items on my body are broken and/or bruised. Lots of fail.

But I think she’s my cashed check from Life saying, OK, you did some horrible, _____ things in your life. And I still promise you nuthin but pain. But all of that stuff you did? For that, we’re square. You’ve paid your fine…and you can go home.

It’s been almost exactly three years – August 17, 2006 – since I left who I was to figure out who I wanted to be; three years since my feet were pointed home.

Tonight, while talking to her, looked up to realize that I was almost there.

Was thinking that this was gonna be my last entry. Was gonna put down: Gone Fish’n and be off.

But this blog helped me find my way. So even if there’s only one person that still reads me, wanna say “Thanks” for taking the time. (Mom, if it’s you, “rum” is what kids call “apple juice”).

Gonna take next week off while I try and figure out a few things and spend some time with Heartgirl. But I’ll be back Sept 1st round midnight, like always.

See you then, yeah?

Categories
personal

Logan’s 35

The lies you tell yourself

I submit that your misery is the sum of the lies you tell yourself:

  • I’m not good at languages, that’s why I don’t learn Italian.
  • I need a drink to talk to her.
  • I’m too old to start something like that.

My favorite: I’m not that type of guy/gal.

That’s the stupidest one of all. Following that logic: I’m not the type of guy that drives because I’ve never driven before.

It’s all horse___, you know? The lies you tell yourself. It’s all horse____.

Put another way: you’re not the person you know you could be, causa the lies you tell yourself.

I’m pensive. Turning 35 today. Halfway to getting my ticket punched, and still waiting for my real life to begin. Been thinking, maybe it begins when you stop lying to yourself. When you take that nasty truth, bite into it and swallow. Then go in for seconds.

Wish I did it a lot earlier myself. Then again, wish I bought Google at 300 bucks, kissed Stella in 9th grade, and didn’t have my life’s savings stolen. But whaddya gonna do?

A pretty lady from a sun-kissed beach just dropped me a line and another pretty lady’s heading my way for a spell. Plus there’s the weekend. Hoping for some awesome to head my way.

Some awesome, and maybe another whole wheat donut, would be nice.

Now…wish me a happy birthday, all of you bastards that read me and never say anything.

Location: 13:00 yest, Harlem
Mood: excited
Music: Coming outta my cage and I’ve been doing just fine

Categories
personal

Mike

We live in a Cliff’s Notes society where we think we know things

My friend Mike passed away; I just heard the news this weekend. Very sudden.

An older guy, he looked like he was 45. He had a six-pack! Paul and I joked all the time that he looked better than botha us. He was a student in my fencing class; 65 years old and still training hard.

I remember that when everything went down with me, so many people said, Well, the only way is up. Which is yet another one of those sayings that only has the air of truth but no real truth to it – dude, there’s always more room for down. Always.

Mike didn’t say that; he said: I’m an old man, I’ve seen a lotta things. You never know what Life will give you, but good or bad, you take it anyway.

We live in a Cliff’s Notes society where we know the punchlines, but never the whole saying:

  • Fools rush in (where angels fear tread)
  • Curiosity killed the cat, (and satisfaction brought him back)
  • Speak of the devil (and the devil appears)

Y’know the sayings: for whom the bell tolls and no man is an island? They come from a John Donne poem:

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend’s were.
Each man’s death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

Mike, you bastard, you made a room fulla grown men with pointy sticks and aggression issues cry. We’re diminished.

I hope when I go, I’m half the man you were.
Location: writing this with a glass of rum for Mike
Mood: grateful
Music: Well, if it rains, I don’t care Don’t make no difference to me
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Categories
personal

Eponine

We are all we know

The subway’s never empty. Unless you’re an insomniac. Then they’re empty a hellva lot.

———-

Thought about some of the people I’ve met recently and in the not-so-distant past. For some strange reason, I also thought of a girl I dated once. It’s the fall.

Part of the reason I think I liked her was because she said that every person that ever went out with her treated her like crap (I’m weird like that). When she told me that, I thought of Eponine from Les Mis.

The book’s a little different from the musical. In the book, there’s this one scene where she’s tossed a stale piece of bread. Starving, she pounces on it like a crazed animal. The hard bread hurts her teeth but she says that she knows the bread is good because it’s hard.

See, Eponine has no concept that there’s such a thing as bread that’s not rotten and not hard. It’s all she knows.

Tried to treat the ex nicely – never did find out if she she thought I did. Random, right?

As for me, well, my friends think I’m lucky because so many people enter and exit my Venn Diagram.

I’m not sure. You see, it’s all I know…

Location: 20:30, getting caught in some rain in Bayside
Mood: exhausted
Music: through the clouds Memories come rushing up to meet me now

Categories
personal

Oh mercy, mercy me

What if we’re on the wrong side?

Cain (a captain in the army): My favorite is: Do you want a little captain in you? (wiggles eyebrows)
Her: (thinking then laughing) Ewwwww.
Me: OK, back to me. Basically I think the only people I can date right now are lawyers and tourists.
Her: Ah, you want someone who has no time for you or is gone.
Me: (nodding) I can’t think of anything else right now. That’s why I’m the third wheel here tonight.

———-

Wish I had something cool to tell you but I spent the day in an office. So…no. I’ve got nothing to report.

OK, I did drink my night away with Cain and a new friend, who’s a litigator and my favorite waitress in the world. Was too hammered to tell them this joke but I’ve sobered up somewhat so here goes:

There’re these two Christians that’re thrown to the these starving lions. One guy says to the other, “Fear not, the good Lord will be merciful to us.”

To which the other dude goes, “How do you know the good Lord won’t be merciful to the lions?

That’s pretty much how I feel right now.

Location: 11:00 yest, on the phone asking for a favor
Mood: sotted
Music: where did all the blue sky go?

Categories
personal

Venn Diagrams

People enter and leave our lives like Venn Diagrams

Was talking to GES this past Sunday about Venn Diagrams.

You see, people walk around the world like 3D Venn Diagrams: we’re all in our own little worlds. Strangers, friends, family, lovers, acquaintances – all, for better or for worse, enter into your little world, do their little bit, and then leave.

Some people stay, some go. Sometimes they do something nice. Sometimes they rob you blind and leave you wondering if there’s someplace you could sell a kidney and how much you could get for it.

And sometimes they write you tell you everything’s gonna be alright.

Thanks for that last one.

Now…does anyone know the going rate on a kidney?

———-

Here’s Fiest again (with members of the National, more on that tomorrow), playing a guitar and reminding me of those teenage hopes.

Location: 16:45 yest, the 66th St. Post Office, waiting
Mood: grateful
Music: Sleepless long nights That was what my youth was for

Categories
personal

Not enough time, Pt II

Men live on average 26,280 days

 

Yesterday, I was out with Nadi and we were drinking until 3AM. The waitress, Heidi, comped us two pitchers of beer. Today, I went back with two other friends and pounded another three pitchers.

Told the girl I was with that prior to 2006, I only ever kissed seven girls. She seemed to not believe me.

But it’s true.

———-

More fun with math – new numbers for US life expectancy:

  • US citizens live, on average, 77.9 years.
  • Women in the US live for 79.10 years.
  • Men get their ticket punched earlier at 72.2 years.

To put this into better perspective:

  • Women live for 28,871 days
  • Men live for 26,280 days.

Been kicking here for roughly 12,500 days.

In other words, I’m about halfway there to finding out if God’s there or not. If I find out, I’ll try and email you. Maybe less. Maybe more. I guess it’ll depend on how much sleep I get and how accident-prone I’m gonna be.

Regardless, it’s so damn short, isn’t it?

You and I, man, we can’t sit around waiting for our real lives to begin. The race is long, yes but not long enough.

Never long enough.

Location: 12AM, 72nd Street, asking her how her week was
Mood: contemplative
Music: And I was lost for words In your arms

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personal

What has Life told you?

Got a call from a girl who asked me an interesting question

 

Me: I dunno, I’ve been out a lot this week, I shouldn’t.
Nadi: Blue-eyed Lawyergirl is gonna be there. Although you are NOT permitted to make a pass at her.
Me: First of all, I’ve got my hands full. Then again, why not? That’s half the fun right there – for all involved parties.
Nadi: It’s open ba…
Me: I’m in.

Was thinking of a girl with curls when my email box went ding.

Berlingirl wrote me and asked the most random but sweet thing: Hope you had a lovely day today! What has Life told you?

Thought that was such an interesting question.

So I stayed in tonight to listen. Life didn’t say anything to me though.

I’ll sit by the phone and wait anyway. Just in case.

Don’t wanna miss that call.

Location: living room, black chair
Mood: waiting
Music: where ever you go I always know
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personal

This version of me

Sometimes think that I’ve become the very, very worst version of myself.

I’ve resolved my business issues but it’s a sad disappointment to discover you’re not quite as noble as you imagined you’d be.

So I met up with Hazel, Paul and Bryson and drank what was left of my self-respect.

Because of my insomnia, I grew up watching black & white films at 2AM. Jimmy Stewart was my favorite. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, The Philadelphia Story, It’s a Wonderful Life, etc.

Do you ever wake up and wonder what happened to all your youth and idealism?

Sometimes think that I’ve become the very, very worst version of myself.

Location: 11PM yest, asking for one more on the UWS
Mood: sotted
Music: Here’s coming a better version of me
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