Tag: pescatarians

Categories
business personal

Cursing buildings and mountains

Another day, another goodbye

Her: I think everyone has a person. (later) Would it matter? If I ate a shrimp or tried some fishy sushi? I don’t think it would.
Me: No – because you are who you are and I don’t want you to change because of me.
Her: I guess I really know that you aren’t my person. Sometimes I forget, though.
Me: (pause) I hope you find your person. You deserve to find your person.
Her: I hope you find yours too.
Me: (thinking) You’re a good person.
Her: I didn’t do anything good.
Me: (long pause) You wished me well. That’s something good.

In addition to that very, very sad conversation, also lost my biggest client today, my computer died and either broke my leg or tore my ACL. Crashed at the ‘rents and ConEd was doing repairs so I took a cold shower. The moment I was done, got a knock on my door.

Him: Hey just wanted to tell you that the hot water is back.
Me: (dripping wet) Of course it is.

Not a good day. But there’s this old saying that it’s better to light a candle than curse the darkness. Ended my night with a nice conversation that I’ll keep to myself but made things seem a little less dark.

Hope you had a better day than I did.

Location: my childhood bed
Mood: beat tired
Music: You’ve been good to me; have i been good to you?

Categories
dating personal

Too old

 

Don’t think I can write anything better than I wrote last year for him.

Her: Logan! You’re too old to date so much.
Me: (sighing) Tell me about it.

It rained all weekend. Go out late Friday. Usual twirl.

Went to a BBQ Saturday with a friend from church and she and I spend the day lounging on Roosevelt Island. Lived here my whole life and have never been – the tram was out so I’ve still never been on that. See a purple dog and get drenched on the way back. Later that night, see HEI and her friends for drinks.

I decide to get off that online dating website cause: (a) don’t have the time for it, (b) feel bad not responding to people, and (c) am tired of the disappointing and the being disappointed. So I go and delete all the emails I’ve gotten in the past month. But one from a pretty cake decorator stands out so I write:

My number’s 917.555.4810. Why don’t you text me as if we met last night so that we can say, quite honestly, that we met last night, I emailed you and then we texted back and forth for a bit. Because that’s what young singltons do in the big city, I think.

She does and we do all weekend. End up grabbing coffee on Sunday.

Here’s the thing: vegetarian. Not even pescatarian – full-on vegetarian. I oftentimes wonder if I’m part of some cosmic joke. But she has an easy laugh and a Georgia accent so we’ll see.

Not looking forward to work – I haven’t told most of you this but all my employees quit on me three weeks ago. Now one of them wants to come back.

After church on Sunday, Christianne and I walk home. We’re both waiting for our blue sky to come back and stay.

Location: the rent’s, getting ready for work
Mood: determined
Music: like seein’ you in my neighborhood I like the way you dress
Categories
personal

You heart me

Her: I think you (draws a heart in the air) me. (laughs) Why does our meeting have to mean something? Can’t it just be we met and I just had too much to drink?
Me: Because I want so bad for it to mean something. That’s why you can’t be the girl.

Friday, meet up with WM and Paolo for a party at Duvet. Not my scene. We bounce and meet up with Elle and company for some rum and beer at Reservoir. Meet a girlie who thinks I look too young. I tell her I’m not.

On the subway going up, I bump into three lovely young German women, smile and say, Hallo, habe ich ein Witz fuer euch – ein Typ…usw, usw, usw…

Saturday, see the girl that I thought was the Ship in the Night Girl who says the above. We chat from midnight to four again before I put her in a cab and take the long walk home, just for old times sake. Walking home I think of something: this girl has green eyes. The SING had green eyes. I think. You see I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue.

Sunday, meet up with Rain downtown to do a month’s worth of laundry. He makes me stand on a plank of wood he’s cutting with a powersaw as my whites hit the rinse cycle. Later that night, attend Cappy’s wedding an upscale midtown Greek restaurant. I see friends I’ve not seen in 15 years. They ask me how I am and I lie and say I’m fine.

Outside, take a picture of the attractive hostess who looks up at the sky and tell her that I won’t take her number but I’ll give her mine. She smiles and says that very gentlemanly. It’s my turn to laugh as I hand her my card. Of course, she’s 21, but not, however, a pescatarian.

Her: I think you want the drama. You like the drama.
Me: I really, really, do not.
Her: What if it did mean something? But not what you were hoping. What if we did connect, but as friends?
Me: (laugh, lean into her ear) I think you heart me.
Her: (leans into my ear) That’s my line. You can’t take my line.
Me: I just did.

Location: 1993 in my head
Mood: melancholy
Music: It’s a little bit funny

Categories
dating personal

Dressing for success

Location: 03:00 yest, bumping into a friend on Broadway
Mood: mischievous
Music: Again and again and again, I think I will break but I mend

Me: Oh for…why would you ask that now?
Her: Well, you have low, or no, creepiness factor and you dress well. A girl’s gotta know.
Me: I would think by now, you’d have figured it out.
Her: You could be bi.
Me: Oh for…

Been doing the online dating thing. Four months ago, it was about 90% RL and 10% online, then it flipped (please don’t search for me, that’s just stalkerish and weird). Lately, it’s about 50/50.

Dating in general is tiring – the constant hellos and goodbyes. But like most things, on the net it happens faster; the disappointing and disappointments zip by and I don’t even have time to register them. Still meeting lots of pescatarians. Don’t ask.

This weekend, I took a break. Friday, stayed in, cooked, and watched a Law & Order marathon. Saturday fenced and then Paul and I saw CaptainRedStar and crew. Ran into L – twice in a week. Bumped into each other earlier Tuesday at Candyfiend‘s party. We’re always so busy.

On another point entirely, decided to act and dress my age. There’s a story there, but it’s for next time. Guess I gotta start shopping at the Gap or something.

The other part’s harder – how does a 34 year-old act?

Categories
personal

Got a pen?

I’m also meeting a lot of lesbians for some reason

In addition to the Swedish girls, I met a bunch of really attractive lipstick lesbians/bisexuals this past weekend.

Girl 1
Me: Why are you giving me your number?
Her: If you wanna call me, call me, if you don’t, f___ off.
Me: OK. Just to be clear, you mostly like the girlies, yeah?
Her: Yeah, and? (pause) Y’know, gimme back my f____ number.

Girl 2
Her: So what’s your story?
Me: I’m looking for Ms. Right in the big city.
Her: (laughing) Funny, so am I.

The second girl and I have swapped a few emails; she’s in a similar profession. She’s very nice – she’s also a full-on Jewish lesbian. I’m sure she’s a pescatarian from NJ too but I didn’t ask.

Seem to get along with girlies that like the girlies. Modern America.

In the book, Logan’s Run, I’d be 13 years post prime; in the movie, I’d be 4.

Either way, I’m last year’s model.

This week, because of the accident, I did some reassessing. I found out that I was deleted by some people.

And I deleted some people – friends, former loves, acquaintances and about two dozen people I’m embarrassed to say that I just don’t remember.

Some I’ve known for a few days and some I’ve known for 14 years.

I’ve blinked and it’s 2007.07.18. One of you should have called me to let me know that I’m an anachronism.

Sent an email. Even a text. Telegram, maybe?

Something.

———-

Speaking of telegrams, damn that AT&T.;

Here’s 2% of why I hate them; there’s another 98% I could tell you.

Location: 1PM yest., on the BQE to Staten Island
Mood: hella busy
Music: Just get to me I don’t care just get to me

Categories
personal

Istanbul (or Constantinople)

I’m meeting a lot of pescetarians lately

I’ve had the worst sleep schedule these days. Plus I’ve got a full social roster this week. Luck of the draw, really. I decided not to go to the Ed Koch banquet and instead meet up with some friends for a small social thing. I’m sure Ms. Right will be somewhere in that banquet, however, I’m a mess.

But I digress.

Topic from last post: girlie. Here’s the interesting thing about her:

  1. She’s a full-on vegetarian. Not even a hint of fish. That’s six in a row.
  2. She also over 5’7″ That’s five in a row.
  3. She’s also a multiple pet owner. That’s three in a row.
  4. She has the same name as No. 7. That’s two in a row.

But she is NOT from New Jersey. Ah, something different. She is, however, from another country. Just my luck, eh?

The next girl I meet will just eat nuts & grass and live in Istanbul (or Constantinople). I know it.

Seriously, I need to know: Is it me?

Maybe it’s my cologne.

No, it must be me.
Location: in the office you see in the first part of the sitcom
Mood: insanely busy
Music: I’ll be out Fast as I can, maybe late but at least about
Site Meter

Categories
personal

The other side

Suppose we all want to get to the other side of something

(c) Someone else

My ex-girlfriend from Europe dropped me a line yesterday. It was good to hear from her. As always she said little except that she’s doing well, seeing someone, and happy. I’m glad.

It would be nice to hear how the other is doing occasionally, as there was a time when we were very close.

True. It was a lifetime ago – before planes hit buildings in my fine city and burned them to the #$@#$ ground.

Remember driving to this drawbridge in her tiny town outside Denmark and waiting for the bridge to come down so we could get to the other side. I liked being there; actually, I like being elsewhere, which is quite different from being somewhere.

On that note, I just bought tickets for the left coast. SFO.

I’ll need a place to crash for a weekend so if anyone has a spare couch in May, I’m there. I’d cook dinner in exchange for some hospitality. If you’re a pescatarian, I’ll buy/make some mac & cheese.

It’ll be good to see the California sun again; I missed her, though I’m sure she didn’t notice I was gone.

Me? Oh, I’m OK, thanks.

I’m just waiting to get to the other side.
Location: in front of the computer all #@$&*^@! day
Mood: drained
Music: Let’s get out of this country I have been so unhappy

Categories
personal

Bits

My day started off at 5AM when my windows flew open because of the wind, freaked the snot out of me, and dumped my bed with dirt.

Sitting there in the dark covered with debris in the howling wind, I thought, Yeah, sure, that’s about right.

And that’s the thing about my life – like everyone else’s I suppose – the misery bits are layered with the ridiculous bits.

Case-in-point: Blue Jean Eyes loved Mac & Cheese so I went out and bought a freezer full of various types because, well…ok, I have no explanation. I just did.

However, since we just parted ways, my last five meals have all had something to do with mac & cheese (eg: mac & cheese with a sandwich, mac & cheese with soup – you get the point).

Since I’m counting, my last four dates/relationships were with pescetarians from New Jersey.

Note to self: Stop dating pescetarians from New Jersey.

Time to microwave dinner. Wonder what’s on the menu…

Location: @2PM, shivering in Queens
Mood: dirty
Music: she takes my breath away Pretending that she don’t miss me