Spending it all

Paxibellum is open

We had our first class today at Paxibellum and it was insanely fun. We even had someone sign up off the street.

My buddy Arin was there and injured so she and I made up the crippled portion of the roll.

Afterward, I had some unexpectedly deep conversations.

Him: You seem to have a lot of anger in you.
Me: You would too if you the people you loved kept dying or leaving you.
Him: They did, Logan. (tells me)
Me: Shit! You can’t just drop something like that on someone!

That’s his story to tell, so I’ll stop it here.

Afterward, some of the investors and I met up for drinks afterward.

I’m pretty lit so I won’t say much. When I drink I’m me, just more me, somehow.

Him: How did it go?
Me: (puzzled) She gave me her number, of course.
Him: (laughing) Of course. I saw her in the neighborhood before.
Me: Sure, she works next door to us.

Evidently, Chad is more Chad too.

Me: That table of four women were checking you out.
Him: I know, Logan.
Me: (laughing) What have I done?

We are who are we are; time and chance just reveals us to everyone else.

Another investor and his son gave me a lift home.

Me: If I may, in life, you always chose between time and money. I can’t take that job because I value my time more than I do money. You’re 22. So you should chose money. But when you get to be your dad’s age – and mine – you have to chose time. Whatever you chose, though, pick carefully who you spend it all on.

Location: Union Square, all goddamn day
Mood: hella lit
Music: if I’d known, if I’d known, if I’d known (Spotify)
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Wishing for horses

Wins and shady secrets

My father died exactly four years ago. It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago.

I talk a lot with older male friends about what it’s like being a father, I think – in part – because I can’t talk to my dad.

It’s less than ideal.

If wishes were horses…

The boy’s been away for a few weeks and will be for a few weeks more.

While I miss him terribly, it’s good because I’ve been coming home at midnight most nights because Chad and I are setting up this new gym.

I’ll tell you more about it once it’s all set up.

Last Saturday, NYC had the most rain it’s ever had in a single hour and I’m happy to say that my apartment did NOT flood, although it came pretty close a few times there.

It was super stressful, but now I know that the things I did to help the situation worked.

I’ll take any win I can get

I’ve become a shady secret again, this time to four different women – not all of them romantic interests, but all have their own reasons for wanting me not to mention them.

Which is a shame because some of the stuff they say is truly amusing. Here are some rando convos, completely out of context.

Her: (to waiter) Do you have something like a Corona Light?
Me: (to her, after) Wait, why didn’t you just ask for a Corona Light?
Her: I’ve been disappointed too many times in the past.

Her: How’s the gym going?
Me: We’re moving at lightning speed so I’m exhausted.
Her: You’re the knife instructor?
Me: Technically, I’m the backup knife instructor.
Her: Oh, you should tell people that you’re a substitute knife instructor.

Me: How’s online dating going?
Her: I like to think of it as, Meeting-strangers-online-to-waste-three-weeks-of-my-life-with-at-a-time.
Me: Accurate.

Remember when I told you that the Heiress had the same type of cancer as Alison? Welp, I was just introduced to yet another woman with this fucking cancer.

She’s asking me for help/advice and – while I don’t want to relive the past – I have to help, I feel. And so, I do.

Again, this type of cancer mainly affect older, white, males. This woman is the third young white female I’ve met that had it.

It’s madness.

Then again, I’m finding that either madness tends to find me, or I tend to find it. Not sure which one is which.

Had lunch with a business associate of mine as well as dinner with another friend of mine.

They each offered me a job in two radically different fields of work. One was a high six-figure a year job, the other a very low five-figure a year job.

Both jobs have their charms.

Him: What are you gonna do?
Me: (shrugging) Not sure. In the end, I suppose all I really want is to raise my son and have a family.
Him: You can’t have it all?
Me: Have it all? (sighing) Clearly, not. If wishes were horses…
Him: …beggars would ride.
Me: (nodding)

Location: not Union Square, lemme tell ya that
Mood: busy, busy, busy
Music: I lost my mind trying to fix broken things (Spotify)
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Catching Ms. Wong

My first show in 13 years

The last show I saw was on a ship when I went to Bermuda. Before that, it was other shows on ships but that’s not quite the same thing as someone picking up tickets to catch a show with you.

Mouse said she bought us tickets to Ali Wong last year but then the pandemic hit and we never got a chance to go.

So the last time I was actually asked to see a show with someone that wanted to go to a show with me was the Coldplay concert I went to with Alison.

That was 13 years ago.

Anywho, although I never got to go Ali Wong the first time around, she ended up doing her show just a few blocks south of my pad (that’s a relevant fact in a moment) and Pac’s girl bought him tickets.

So I posted on FB:

Completely unrelated to that post, a friend of mine hit me up to ask me if I wanted to see the show with her.

There were some technical issues…

Her: Can you go into Ticketmaster and log into my account and print out the tickets? Having all sorts of printer issues.
Me: Sure thing. Just send me the info.
Her: I have new printer but crappy tech skills.
Me: (a minute later) I judge you.

The next thing you know, we were grabbing dinner around the way…

Her: Am I supposed to eat this salad with chopsticks?
Me: Yes, we’re in a Japanese restaurant.
Her: Watch out then. Cause my chopstick skills are a .5 out of 10. There’s gonna be tomatoes flying everywhere.
Me: I’ll get you a fork.
Her: Hey! On a white person scale, that’s a 3 out of 10!
Me: (to waitress) She’s gonna need a fork.

…before heading off to see the show.

Now, while it wasn’t super hot, it was humid as blazes.

So, stumbling outta the restaurant after a few drinks, we first waited for the subway to bring us to the theatre.

Her: Well, it’s only a minute between the two trains.
Me: I can do math, lady!

When we arrived, the person managing the line said, “To speed things up, please have out your tickets, ID, and vaccination card.”

Me: Shoot! I don’t have that with me. Do you?
Her: I have it on my phone.
Me: Dammit! I gotta run home and find it.

And I literally ran.

Like I said, the theatre’s in my hood.

So, in the hot mugginess of the night, I dashed home and tore my entire apartment to shreds looking for that damnable card.

And I found it.

Running back, the line was gone. Most people were seated. Well, maybe not most…

Luckily, I made it in just in time to catch the opening act, who was hilarious. Unfortunately, I didn’t catch his name.

Him: My parents came here to a foreign country, not speaking the language, not knowing anyone, just so their son could have a better life. And then I became a stand up comedian.

Then Ali came on and she killed. It was a bit more risque than I personally like but I still found myself laughing wildly.

Interestingly, she didn’t make a single joke about COVID, which I kinda appreciated.

She did make a lotta jokes about wanting to cheat on her husband, which made me uncomfortable, especially since I just told you about that conversation with an ex I had.

But, in the end, she said she never would because, “A good husband is harder to find than a great wife.”

That, and another line I’ll keep to myself, really made me think.

Afterward, we hit up a local bar and called it a night.

Making it home, I almost drunk dialed someone but decided to try and leave my possible pasts in the past.

Although I got my own drunken text at 3AM, which was pretty random.

All-in-all it was nice to finally catch a show again.

And now I’ve got a gym to finish up.

I just spoke to my son.

Him: I just saw the craziest thing on television. It was so intense!

That made me LOL.

Location: in front of my computer, running credit cards for the biz
Mood: productive
Music: I wanna get to, get to, get to, get to know you like that (Spotify)
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You’re Welcome!

For sure, I’ll be ok

The Heiress is gone from this blog. The details are unimportant but the fact that she had the same cancer as Alison really messed with my head.

She showed me a picture of herself in front of a MRI machine and that sent me for a loop, although I think I hid it well.

I most definitely cannot deal with anything like that ever again.

Like I said, I only have the type of luck people don’t want.

It’s a shame though. She was the first billionaire I met although I wonder if this other fella in our gym is also one as well.

I think I’d like to meet another just for the conversations.

Me: What happened with your ex?
Her: He was going through some things so I bought him a building in Greenpoint so he could recuperate.
Me: Well, if you’re giving away buildings, the kid and I could use a townhouse in Hoboken at some point. Nuthin fancy, but central air would be nice. Oh, and one that doesn’t flood.

I’m really not that picky, considering that I live in a place where a rat swam up the toilet and it flooded, all within two weeks.

Interestingly, the Skinny House in Boston is for sale again; I visited it back in 2018. Boston seems fun but it looks like I’ll be in NYC for at least the next five years, what with the new gym et al.

On that note, Chad and I are both running on fumes trying to get this thing off the ground. As you might expect, it’s all the unexpected stuff that’s slowing us down.

Him: Uh, is that supposed to move like that?
Me: Jesus Christ.

Also, other things in the city seem to be falling apart as well.

My apartment almost flooded again earlier this week so I had plumbers come in today yet again.

And cops were all over the place the other day.

Still, I suppose, though, I am lucky in some ways.

Him: When did mommy die?
Me: (sighing) 2017.
Him: Oh man! That’s was a long time ago. (looking at me) You’ll be ok, papa. I’m here.
Me: (smiling) Then, for sure, I’ll be ok. Thank you.
Him: You’re welcome!

Location: earlier today, ducking out with the kid from some thunderstorms
Mood: exhausted
Music: Summer’s only ending if you let it, babe (Don’t let it) (Spotify)
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I won the lottery

The pyramids were white

Him: It’s a regret of mine, that I never met Alison.
Me: You woulda loved her. She was great.
Him: I also really didn’t know you before she got sick.
Me: I was…better.

Recently spoke to three different women that I spent time with after Alison died, purely by happenstance.

They each told me, in their own ways, that I was not very nice to them (to put it mildly). I can see that. I’ve repeatedly said throughout the years that I’m not a very nice person.

It’s somewhat related to that old quote from Margaret Atwood I told you about years ago:

Wanting to meet a writer because you like their books is like wanting meet a duck because you like pate.

I’ve always been a good writer and a bad person. Suppose some things are constant.

First: I really liked you and you took advantage of me.
Me: I wish I could tell you I remembered or that I didn’t do it. But, that does sound reminiscent of me. For what it’s worth,  I’m sorry.

Oddly, that Atwood entry was about kindness, and these women reminded me just how unkind I can be. Not that I need much reminding.

Second: You made me feel uncomfortable.
Me: You were never anything but kind to me. I’m sorry. Let me know how I can do better.

It made me think of the more recent entry I wrote where I told you that all those Greek and Roman statues you see as white were all painted in bright colours once.

On the flip side, for 3,800 years, the pyramids were a bright white. Then in 1303 CE, an earthquake happened that changed their look to what you know now.

Been working with Chad every single day since the middle of July. I find it odd that he only knows this broken version of me.

I think I was better when she was alive. Something good died in me when she died, I think. Maybe the best parts of me.

Him: You’ve been a good friend to me.
Me: Have I? I wonder about that. I have my own horse in this race.

Just wanna have enough good left in me to raise the boy so he’s better than me.

My mom also broke my heart this past weekend, but for an entirely different reason.

Her: Today’s Chinese Father’s Day. You know, your dad would always buy a lottery ticket and he’d always win.
Me: Really? I never knew that.
Her: Oh, nothing big, nothing big just a few dollars here and there but he won a lot. I never won anything. (quietly) Well that’s not true I guess I won the lottery when I met him.
Me: (sighs) I think you both won.

Location: riding around Riverside with the boy, early this morning
Mood: resigned
Music: Damaged, but I’m copin’, holding on and hopin’ (Spotify)
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Hello, Darkness

I can’t do this

Gonna try and be more careful about updating this blog. But it’s what I do.

Figure that, once the boy gets to be a certain age, I’ll have to take it down. But, until then, I’ll just tell you about the nonsense that is my life.

On that note, I’ve been meeting…myself, lately.

For example, I met a woman with a young son. Her husband died on a motorcycle, hit by a log truck.

Every time we talked, she spoke of her husband, and I spoke of Alison.

I never really appreciated how giving Mouse was with her patience and ear when it came to Alison. But that’s a post for another time, I suppose.

As for this woman, I knew I wasn’t her fella. And I  wanted to tell her that I couldn’t be her guy because the weight of her loss and my loss would be too much for either of us to bear.

But she actually beat me to it.

I’m sorry, Logan, for you losses. But I’m trying to be ok – for me and my son – and I don’t think I can do this. I’m sorry.

I felt such a relief, I can’t tell you.

And I felt guilty that I felt that relief.

But the shadow of death does just that: Shadows us. Even if you don’t know it yet, she does.

I know because Shawn came by my kali class around the way and afterward…

Him: Do you wanna get a drink?
Me: Sure. There’s a place around the way I used to go to all the time.

While there, I met a girl named Lake who was traveling to Arizona the next day.

Me: What’s in Arizona, Lake?
Her: My best friend’s sister.
Me: (laughing) But not your best friend?
Her: (long pause) No. She died.
Me: Well, I guess we’re trading our sad stories then.

Shawn left early and she and I continued our conversation. It was fun, but dark.

Like me. Fun Logan.

Still, when it came to darkness, I wasn’t prepared for the Heiress.

I’ve never met an Heiress before. Prior to her, Caligirl was probably the wealthiest girl I’ve ever dated, but the Heiress was/is an…heiress. And a Harvard educated doctor, to boot.

But I’m guessing she’d trade it all to have her family again.

Me: What happened to them, if you don’t mind my asking?
Her: They all died. My husband and my twins.
Me: Holy shit.

It went even darker than that – far darker, if you can believe it – but I suppose that’s enough darkness for one night.

Sorry, I guess not.

Because another girl I’ll call the Shrink told me about a friend of hers that just died two days ago from a drug overdose.

All this happened in the span of about five days after my last horror.

What madness.

There’s always more than enough darkness to go around, isn’t there?

And it puts everything else into perspective.

Paul: Are you ok, Logan?
Me: OK is a relative term. But yes, I think I’m OK.

Location: earlier today, Williamsburg, trying to break someone’s leg
Mood: dark, but hopeful
Music: people bowed and prayed to the neon god they made (Spotify)
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Logan dines and dashes (almost)

Memories with old friends

I’d just thought of Rain the other day because I met up with someone for coffee right outside his old pad. It was fine and we had a good time sitting outside chatting when we just casually got up and walked away.

Later on that night, I got hit with my usual insomnia and thought that I did a dine-and-dash.

The joint opened at 6AM so I called them as soon as I woke up and spoke to the waitress – who was the same one that was there when Rain was there – to try to pay the bill over the phone.

Her: What are you asking me?
Me: Did I pay the bill?
Her: Yeah. Don’t worry. (later) You’re Rain’s friend, right? Tell him we hope he’s happy.

For some reason, that whole interaction made me happy all day.

A few days later, I got a mass email from Rain. Like always, I looked at it like kismet.

The thing that always bums me out is the futility and meaningless of life.

But, every once in a while, I wonder if all might mean something.

It’s weird, how old friends seem to hit you up at just the right time.

I’ve hung out with more waitresses than you could possibly imagine. Alison and Mouse were both waitresses once – although not when I met them – as were any number of the women I hung out with like Daisy, Artistgirl, HEI, just off the top of my head.

Was trying to figure a place to meet up with someone downtown when I remembered a joint on St. Marks that Rain loved called Stingy Lulus.

It was cheap diner food that was good, not great, but plentiful. Our buddy Larry would always order the cheese fries with chili after 1AM.

The waitresses there were all drag queens but it was New York so it wasn’t a good or bad thing, merely a thing.

I remembered that I met up with Rain one night there because I needed to kill some time before meeting up some other college friends at this place nearby called Village Yokocho. I was dating a doctor, on-and-off, at the time.

She moved to Cali so the two of us could really try to give the breakup a go.

Rain told me that that night that, while he liked the doctor, he didn’t see the two of us together. And then he left and I headed to Yokocho afterward where I ended up chatting up a waitress there and going on a couple of dates with her.

It was cold on one of them so I gave her my favourite scarf. Never got it back because we both ghosted each other.

We’re actually FB friends now but I figure that scarf is long gone. Besides she’s married with kids and it’d be weird to hit her up outta the blue to ask for my old scarf back.

I’m rambling.

I feel like I don’t remember much of my life before 2015.

But rando memories are rushing up to greet me now. I’d completely forgotten about everything I told you – Stingy Lulu’s, late nights with Rain and company, Yokocho, etc – and it all hit me at once.

I’ve lived so many different lives in 17,500 days. I was someone very different, once. Not better or worse, merely different.

Actually, I was definitely someone worse – even more vain, argumentative, and shallow than I am now – but I was also someone with some great friends and a really cool wool scarf.

Man, I miss that scarf.

Me: I’m not sure you woulda liked the person I once was.
Her: How different could you be?
Me: So different. I guess I keep reinventing myself, hoping that this time, I’ll be who I’m supposed to be with the life I’m supposed to have. (thinking) I think that maybe I was only who I was supposed to be once in all this time.
Her: What happened?
Me: It’s too early to trade our sad stories, darling. Hey, have you ever dined-and-dashed?

photo: joannaepley’s flickr

Location: in my head
Mood: nostalgic
Music: I’m no good at goodbyes (Spotify)
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So I smoked a joint for the first time

And got my vaccine – all in the same weekend

Dropped the boy off with my in-laws last week so they could spend some time with him, both of them having gotten the vaccine. It also meant that I could catch up on a whole buncha things.

While there, I had some fish and seafood, neither of which were a good idea due to the gout but I did it anyway.

Arriving home, I literally hit the gym every opportunity I could.

I also had been trying to get the vaccine myself and ended up getting one last minute at 11AM for 2PM a few blocks from BrightBea’s place.

I contemplated dropping her a line but decided against it (again). It was a one hour 45 minute trip from my pad to there.

Because it was in the middle of nowhere, I took my scooter but the cop at the front of the hospital told me I couldn’t bring it in. Not knowing what else to do, I convinced the guy running the coffee cart outside to watch it for me for 10 bucks.

Him: I’m leaving in exactly 30 minutes, at 2:45. You need to be here by then.
Me: I’ll try my best, thanks!

You can see the cart behind me in this picture below.

I dashed upstairs and ended up being the first in line. Immediately after I checked in – about 5 minutes – I turned around to see that the line was easily 10-15 deep after me. So, I lucked out.

The nurse was sweet but chatty. I just wanted to get going. At 2:37:

Her: You’re all set.
Me: Great, I gotta run downstairs.
Her: No, honey, you gotta sit for 15 minutes.

I explained to her my situation and she sighed.

Her: Can you stay until 2:40? Three minutes.
Me: You got a deal, lady.

At exactly 2:40, I ran downstairs and made it just in time.

Him: Hello, my friend! Congratulations on your shot!

Felt pretty good afterward so I hit up my kali class after teaching a quick private. Pez, Panda, Shawn, and Iron Chef all came to my Friday kali class and I saw three out of the four of them the very next day for jits.

While there, I ended up chatting with my buddy Miller, who always gives me good parenting advice, as well as Jay, who got a promotion.

Later on, met up with Chad, MJ, Pez, and IronChef for drinks around the way and made some new acquaintances.

Her: Mary. And my brother’s name is Logan, too.
Me: He must be pretty cool. Not that I am but I’m hoping to grow into the name.

Also spoke to a tall blonde wearing a red leather jacket in the bar.

Me: Have you ever heard of aposematism?.
Her: I’m sorry, what?

On the way back, we remarked how interesting it was that marijuana was now legal in NYC.

I’d had cannabis  in my recent past – after Alison got sick – but I never actually smoked a joint before.

Her: I have one if you want.
Me: Sure, but I have to go first or after you. Because of cooties. (she laughs) I don’t know where the guys have been.
Him: You don’t know where she’s been!
Me: Fair, but, given the right circumstances, it’s within the realm of possibility that I end up making out with one woman or another. Not you, of course, just women in general…

Afterward, we headed back to mine where we attempted to play some Exploding Kittens but ended up talking for hours instead.

Him: I respect how the three of you seem to talk to people you don’t know.
Me: (shrugging) I just assume they want to talk to me.

After a bit, we all ended up on a topic that’s relatively private so I’ll end that story here.

Didn’t sleep very well that night. As I said, I never smoked a joint before in my life and the things I was thinking and feeling were unsettling.

I apologize to Alison a lot when I’m by my lonely. For failing her.

It was a rough night and I’ll leave it at that as well.

It was my first joint but I feel like I’ve been drunk for three years and fifteen days.

Location: saying hi on 77th and Amsterdam
Mood: busy
Music: Why does it hurt (Spotify)
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Someone that believes in himself

Better than the alternative

I finally got my piña coladas the other day. No umbrella in it but beggars can’t be choosers.

You see, my cousin, Ras, didn’t come with us the last time Cho, Mouse, Chad, and I went off to get seafood so she suggested we go there earlier this week.

Cho picked up Ras first and then Mouse and me. Chad wasn’t feeling well so he wasn’t going to come but Mouse rang him up and found out that he was fine and just being overly-cautious.

Mouse: You have 15 minutes to get dressed, we’re picking you up.
Him: I’ll need more than 15 minutes, I have to…
Her: (interrupting) You can just put on your makeup in the car. We’ve all done that. 15 minutes.

So off we went. It took us 15 minutes to travel the 10 blocks we needed to get out of Manhattan, and then 15 minutes to go the next 10 miles.

That’s driving in Manhattan for you.

While on the way to the restaurant, we saw this massive truck try to parallel park into this tiny spot.

Me: Now that’s someone that believes in himself.
Her: God, how small is his stuff that he needs a truck that big?

We ended up ordered the same thing we got last time.

Ras, Chad, and Henry: We’re stuffed.
Mouse and me: We’re ordering two more stone crabs, one snow crab, and potatoes.
Ras: You two are animals.

Mouse didn’t say a word for the next 20 minutes as she silently made those crabs regret being born.

I managed to say a few words in between bites and more piña coladas.

The next day, Mouse made made me a lunch of grilled fish with a low-carb creamy cauliflower risotto.

Now, she’s cooked for me before but this was honestly the best thing she ever made me – so much so that I asked her for the recipe.

What I got from my request was not only the recipe itself, but also vindication that it’s not just my mind that was going, because Mouse did to me, exactly what I did to her just a few weeks ago.

Me: Can you send me that recipe?
Mouse: Sure. (sends me the recipe, my phone beeps) Oh, you have a notification.
Me: Oh? Wait, that was was you texting me the recipe!
Her: What the heck!? I guess I’m getting old.

We all are. Getting old is a blessing, though – it’s better than the alternative.

Podcast Version
Location: early this morning, getting a gyro with my coach
Mood: hangry
Music: they don’t know about you and I(Spotify)

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Blogarama - Observations Blogs

Herding cats

Nothing is, I suppose

Been working on alla these projects of mine. Some for scratch, most not.

For example, I’ve been heading out to Queens early in the AM to meet up with a buncha guys to roll around every once in a while.

See, I’ve been trying to keep as busy as possible because I’ve been missing the boy something awful.

He just biked by himself the other day. When I was in another state.

It’s less than ideal.

And when I’m not thinking of him, I’m thinking of Alison. Or Mouse. Or my old life lives.

Suppose we’re are all just prisoners here of our own devices.

I’d just finished a project when Chad hit me and some friends up, outta the blue, via a messaging app.

Him: What’s up everyone? Cho and I are getting dinner later today and then look at the sunset together if he’s lucky. We’re doing Flushing.
Cho: I’m driving.
Pac: I can meet you guys in Flushing.
Mouse: (later) Reading this chat is like trying to herd cats.

I needed the distraction.

Me: I’m in.

And I hopped on my scooter to meet up with Cho around my old offices and we went off to pick up Chad downtown and Mouse in Brooklyn. It was a 90 odyssey.

Mouse: Since you all came to pick me up, I brought some homemade dumplings to tie everyone over.
Chad: Sweeeeeet!
Cho: Sorry, no eating in the car.
Chad: Dammit!

We ended up meeting Pac at the same restaurant that Mouse and I met him at over a year earlier. I wanted to go see my mom and sis since we were there but I figured it wasn’t fair to make everyone go out of their way.

I chatted up one of the greeters there for a buddy of mine.

Me: It’s too bad you’re not single, Sophie. He’s a catch.
Her: You remembered my name!
Me: Of course, darling. It’s what I do. But enough about me, tell me about this fella you’re seeing.

We ate. We drank. And then had some complex carbs.

It was a good night and a good distraction.

I went home and tried to get some sleep but instead pulled up pictures and videos of my family.

I’m grateful for my friends, really. But it’s not the same as family.

Nothing is, I suppose.

Podcast Version
Location: in front of my computer, non-stop
Mood: focused
Music: I had to find the passage back to the place I was before (Spotify)
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