Tag: observations

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personal

This time around

 

Camera Obscura in concert at the South Street Seaport

 

Camera Obscura – the drummer was smoking like a chimney.

Baltimore was nice. Coming home was nicer. This time around, there was silverware. Sorta.

Was in the Baltimore Penn Station and I remembered being there a year ago asking my brother what I should do when I got home. He reminded me of something:

You’re 33. How can someone that you’ve been with for four years define you? What’d you do before her?

Told him the same thing once before.

I’m troubled again, but this time, for totally different reasons.

Was going to make a peanut butter and marmalade sandwich but instead had a rendezvous with a single-barrel, seven-year rum. No oranges.

This week is going to be very unpleasant but I just told someone here that life has it’s highs and lows. Life’s like that.

I’m ready for some more highs.

Camera Obscura in concert at the South Street Seaport

Location: 9PM yest, Freehold NJ, hearing a sad story
Mood: troubled
Music: I’m a stupid little thing

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personal

Fallen Summer

I got my pad, my people and my poison. Someday, maybe my person too.

You are not superior just because you see the world in an odious light.

My friend Jaerik made an interesting observation on my blog that I don’t think I’ve ever noticed myself.

He said that I rarely do angry blog entries. Never thought of that.

I think people do angry on the internet because it’s easy and makes for pseudo-intellect. Sure there’s lots to be pissed about; life is inherently unfair.

But man, that’s the quickest way to a bitter, solitary life.

This blog is mostly about my love life because, well, I got nuthin else to complain about.

Not really.

I got my pad. I got my people. I got my poison. I just picked up a new whip to replace my old ride. Another 300 payments and it’s all mine.

Figure someday I’ll get the girl too. Someday.

For now, I’ll take the fall weather we’re having in summer here in NYC.

Speaking of which, I met this girl at Bryant Park tonight…

Location: in front of a pile of books again
Mood: content
Music: God gave me everything

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personal

Sold I to the merchant ships

I consider our origins

Well I’ve gotten some…colorful emails based on my last post.

While both men and women read a lot more into it than intended, both seemed to disappointed in me for completely different reasons.

Primo Levi wrote in Survival in Auschwitz, that he carried a 100 pound soup pot because it gave him a few moments in the sun.

A guard gave him the gig for Italian lessons. So Levi taught him Dantes Inferno 26, which has the line, Considerate la vostra semenza: fatti non foste a viver come bruti, ma per seguir virtute e canoscenza.

Consider your origin; you were not born to live like brutes, but to follow virtue and knowledge.

Look, we’re human. We’re flawed. But we try. It’s our redemption song.

Dante and Levi both believed that we have some nobility somewhere – even after seeing their respective hells, yeah?

Location: 2PM yest, watching a rooster in Harlem
Mood: amused
Music: someday we’ll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun

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personal

Nighthawks

Edward Hopper’s painting is still relevant even now

 

There were about 7.3 million people here in NYC in 1990. Now we’re at over 8.2 million – essentially double that of LA with about 14% more adult females than adult males.

That’s a lotta people.

Funny thing is, the names and faces change, but the people are always the same.

The painting above is of the Village in ’42, just after Pearl Harbor.

You got the counterman and the nighthawks – the people out on the hunt for something, someone. The counterman’s looking out. He’s probably got a family, so he wants to go. The nighthawks?

They got no one. They’re in no rush.

But look close. There’s no door; no windows that open. They’re on display. It’s all justa show.

And the guys? It’s the same guy. A copy of a copy.

I had some stories of the weekend but I told them to you already.

Nighthawks all got the same story; millions of people but few connections.

Yeah, we’re all here in the same place, the same joint.

But in 8.2 million different worlds.

Location: 4PM yest, Columbus Circle meeting someone
Mood: relieved
Music: Kennedy and Monroe come to see my rock show
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personal

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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Still Running

Humans survived because we ran

With nods to 0utre who cheered me up yesterday while I was hanging out in Stressville.

Been working out like mad but gaining weight!

The late night eating and drinking. I was out and about again tonight only briefly because I’m sick.

Just as well, I gotta cut all that out.

My roomie (ah, betcha didn’t know I had one) said Harvard has this new theory why humans are on top of the food chain:

Humans survived, not because they are smarter than other animals, but because we can run longer than any animal. No animal, not even horses or dogs, can run the distances a man can run when put to task.

Marathon Marathons.

We hunted until the animals just gave up.

We survived because we ran. It is in our nature.

Until I’m breathless and weak, I’m running. Towards what?

No idea.

But, dammit, I’m running.

Location: -30, stumbling home
Mood: stressed
Music: She is raging and the storm blows up in her eyes
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(Not) Back in the picture

Some breakups take longer than others

Blue Jean Eyes and I were orbiting for a bit more but I didn’t mention it because I wasn’t sure how it’d shake out. Turns out I was right; fifteen days later, we’re total strangers.

Suppose that’s just how it goes.

———-

There’s a new book called Send which basically says, think twice before you do anything online as once it’s up, it’s there forever. This is turning out to be very disturbingly true:

I did work for a short film, Cycle, years ago. Apparently it’s being shown someplace because I got a email from a girl asking me if I was the same Logan Lo.

Someone else said that she read about me from a random article in a local paper.

Just Googled my name and this blog showed up.

Getting a sinking feeling that if I ever look for a job (or a chick), I’m screwed.

I should re-think this blog, maybe…

Location: @3PM yest., Walker & 6th Ave
Mood: uncomfortable
Music: angel in disguise Chinese-speaking girlfriend big brown eyes

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personal

What’s your definition?

We all have our own definitions of love

 

(c) Elated.com
Somena called late the other night. We only ever talk when it’s late.

I thinks that’s a good definition although mine is a bit different but the same. I’ll write it up some time.
Me: Fair enough – what’s your definition?
Her: (pause) Did you hear the lyrics to Cigarettes by the Wreckers? There’s a line that goes “someday I won’t have to prove ‘Cause somebody will see all my worth.” That’s what I think. It’s when somebody just thinks you’re great; you’re awesome.
Me: (thinking) If that’s what it is then, I guess no, I haven’t had it in a while. Besides, I don’t…
Her: Stop. The right person will see. She’ll think you’re awesome. Even if you’re not. You know how the line ends? It goes “until then I’ll do just fine on my own.” You always do just fine, you’re always fine.
Me: (pause) It’s too bad we’re so alike…
Her: (laughing) We’d kill each other. Get some sleep. Nite, Logan.
Me: Nite, Somena.

What’s your definition?

Stand Still, Look Pretty
Stand Still, Look Pretty (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Location: @5PM, yest. @Mott & Hester St., talking my way outta a ticket
Mood: pensive
Music: I might like The quiet nights of this empty life

 

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personal

Rough hewing

We’re all working our way through life

Saw Blue Jean Eyes last week. Waited to write because I wanted to see how it panned out. No change, unfortunately.

She asked me the most peculiar thing once, she asked if I said unkind things about her afterwards. I asked her why I would. If you’ve read this blog long enough, you know I’m tired of being the bad guy.

Had dinner Saturday with some friends and strangers including a Candy Fiend from Texas:

Her: I read your blog, you know.
Me: Really? I’m always surprised…
Her: Are you depressed?

Is that how I come across?

Looking back at my entries, I think that, more than anything, I’m dorky/hopeful.

Yes, I have my miniature disasters and minor catastrophes, (see supra) but my last tiny calamity brought about this blog, friendship with rum, a better idea of what I want/don’t want in life, 72 to Canal, a dozen new satellites, and a few memorable, if short-lived, romances.

A fair trade, no?

I updated my About section to reflect my new age but everything else is still true.

I’m still hopeful. I’m still rough-hewing.

It’s good, that some things never change.

Location: walking five+ miles from home to the LES
Mood: confused
Music: don’t want to be second best Don’t want to stand in line

Categories
personal

Spring cleaning

I’ve got to learn to duck

That was unpleasant. I gotta learn to duck (warning: kinda gross – do not click if squeamish).

It’s just as well, I need to stay home and clean up. I bought myself what I think is the best canister vacuum, yet I haven’t used it once, I’m going to use it, I just don’t know when.

Her: Spring cleaning, eh? I wanna do that too. BTW, so many people are single these days, a friend called me yesterday to tell me that he and his girl just split up.
Me: Well, two friends of mine just got into relationships and someone I know just got back with an ex. But I think it’s all part of the same thing: spring cleaning.

Something about spring makes you wanna examine your stuff. The spring light sharpens things dull from the winter. You can see what’s worth working on and what’s gotta go. Doesn’t matter if they’re comic books, handbags, or relationships.

Last spring was terrible for me.

This spring, things are looking much better.

Excuse the mess – it’s I’m still a work in progress.

Location: @8:45 PM, on the UWS playing with sharp things
Mood: thankful
Music: if you’re gonna do it do it right do it with me
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