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Just-ever-so-slightly

Controlling the effects

Saw my mom and sis this past weekend. They were happy to see us, I think.

The cat, less so…

Also saw the surgeon, his brother, and their families this past weekend at another dinner party.

Surgeon’s wife: You really should ask out French Dancer. Except, she’s really young.
Me: Yeah, really young. I’m busy enough as it is, anywho.
Her: Oh! What’s the latest?
Me: Where to begin?

A couple that I didn’t know was there and the wife commented that I was probably 34 vis-a-vis something else entirely.

Me: Well, you get a hug for that.
Her: Wait, how old are you?
Me: Almost 50.
Her: How is that possible?!
Me: (shrugging) Same as everyone else: 24 hours a day, seven days a week. For 49 years.

I often marvel at how many really good souls I’ve met in my life.

While my luck – broadly speaking – is of the stripe most people don’t want, in that small regard, I consider myself lucky.

On a related point, there were about five women that I met after Alison died. They all had a hand in helping me pull myself outta my crazy and depression, to varying degrees.

Unfortunately, I was probably the worst version of myself so it’s no surprise that none of them are really on speaking terms with me. I get that.

It’s one of my 10,000 regrets.

On that point, Lviv rang me today. After everything that went down between us, I’m touched that she still finds the time to check in on me.

I told her, honestly, that I was grateful.

Me: Before you left, you said, very simply, “Love shouldn’t be this hard,” [about a messy situationship I was in]. I appreciate that and you. Thanks for that.
Her: Aww it’s good to hear, I just want you to be happy.

She didn’t realize what a profound effect her throwaway line had on me. In fact, it’s probably the main reason everything in my life has been so different – and better – these past several months.

Of course, she’s part of my possible pasts. I wonder what woulda happened between us if things were different.

I wonder about so many things that were just-ever-so-slightly outside of my control.

Boy: Why’s he so mean?
Me: I dunno, kid. Here’s the thing, though: You can’t control other people and how they treat you. But you can control how you let things affect you. Pretty soon, you won’t care. So, you can start not caring right now.
Him: OK. I’ll try.

Location: earlier today, chatting up a tall singer named Izzy in a park
Mood: hopeful
Music: I’m out of my mind but I’m feeling just fine (Spotify)
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I have weapons too

A birthday party with Paul

My buddy Paul moved close to me in the UWS years ago but I hardly saw him.

Nothing happened between us so much as life happened to us, individually. Plus COVID.

He knew Alison really well – in fact, he was there when we met, when we dated, and everything afterward. Until she died.

I remember asking him if Alison was attractive because I thought she was so beautiful that I thought I might be seeing things.

He told me she was. That’s happened exactly twice in my life.

In any case, whenever I thought of him, I thought of his wedding, which Alison couldn’t come to because she was pregnant with the boy and didn’t want anyone to know.

And then everything turned to shit. He did nothing wrong at all.

Like I said, I was avoiding people from my old life for a while after Alison died because everything reminded me of her and I wanted to forget.

But, because I don’t hit the grief button as often as I used to, I’ve been slowly seeing my old friends again.

He invited me to his kid’s birthday party the other day and the boy and I went.

Boy: Will I know anyone there?
Me: Maybe. But there’s pizza and cake.
Him: OK!

Weirdly enough, ran into a fella that went to my old gym that we used to call The Chessmaster. He was a really good fighter but was tactically very good as well.

He moved to the hood too. It’s funny how many people move into my area.

There’s a spot in Central Park, the Bethesda Fountain, where if you sit there long enough, the entire city walks by. – Fools Rush In

Afterward, the boy and I went on another bike ride around the park.

I wonder what, if anything, he’ll remember of these moments.

Him: Papa, look! A raccoon.
Me: Man, you have some good eyes, kid.

Did manage to catch up with the Counselor the other night near her pad, though.

Me: Before I come in, you should know that I’m armed.
Her: (shrugging) It’s fine. I have weapons too.
Me: (laughing and handing them to her) Noted. Please don’t stab me.
Her: I can’t promise that.
Me: Fair.

I had injured myself yet again at my gym, this time my knee.

Her: Do you want me to wrap it for you? I’m pretty good at it.
Me: Why is that?
Her: (shrugging) Cheerleader captain. You have to know this kinda stuff.

She propped me up on a knee brace she happened to have and put an icepack on my knee.

Me: I gotta say, this is one of the weirder dates I’ve been on.
Her: (laughing) Rum?
Me: (looking at her bottle) That’s like moonshine.
Her: This is what I grew up on.
Me: Well, ok then.

She gave me back my scarf too.

I think I’m making progress. A little.

Location: earlier today, unwrapping dinner for the kid in the gym
Mood: hopeful
Music: You told me I was selfish (Spotify)
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Maximum Angles and Old Ghosts

So much for sleep

The second birthday party was pretty brief – people from my old gym.

Chad and Kung were there – like me, they both had wrist issues, but much, much worse. Both had surgery.

That’s them comparing the maximum angle they can have their hands.

It was pretty funny. OK, you had to be there.

They did it a lot.

A fella that worked for the government and helped me with the whole crypto theft was there too.

Me: I gotta take you guys out for some steaks and beer.
Him: No, it’s really…
Me: Dude, don’t be selfish – what if I just want an excuse to eat expensive steaks and cheap beers? Or cheap steaks and expensive beers? I’m easy.

Probably too easy. Even before I arrived, I had way too many drinks already that night, including two more there. Think that put me at eight?

At some point Chad said that he had to dash, which I was thrilled to hear because I just wanted to get home and crash.

He barely got the words out when I was already high-tailing home.

Walking out the door, I made it to West 4th to hop the train. Somewhere between there and home, I ran into an old ghost with blond hair and green eyes.

Her: Logan!

I’m such a sucker for blond hair and green eyes. A boy could marry a girl like that.

So much for getting any sleep.

These late nights have caught up with me because I woke up today with a fever and sore throat after weeks (months) of battling allergies.

I’m convinced that COVID has made my – previously almost imperceptible – seasonal allergies into weeks of misery.

Me: I think I’m going to just spend the night in bed watching junk. Sorry, just feel like trash.
Her: No worries, definitely been there. Feel better!

Location: double-masked, waiting for the boy in Union Square
Mood: sicky-sick, send soup
Music: Three months without you, I don’t know what to say next (Spotify)
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No sense in wasting time

I gotta jet

Actually went to two more birthday parties, back-to-back, the other night.

The first was for RE Mike’s girl on the roof of the Daintree – he booked the whole room. Of course. Because he’s RE Mike.

As soon as I walked in, the lady at the front put a bracelet on me.

Her: This is for the open bar.
Me: Sweeeeeet. I’ll have a Hemmingway daiquiri.
Her: I’ll have your waitress get you that.

Pretty much had three of those and then an old fashioned.

I knew several people there, including my friend-from-around-the-way.

Me: How’s work?
Him: The usual. Our new offices are near your gym.
Me: Ah, we should grab lunch. (thinking) You know, I think we’ve known each other 20 years?
Him: 22. I met you the first day I arrived there for work.
Me: Jesus Christ. We be old, yo.

Kinda wonder where my life would be if I stayed in corporate America.

Don’t think I woulda met Alison or done kali or any of that. I woulda been a totally different person living a totally different life.

There’d be no kid, no Paxibellum, no Scenic Fights, prob no blog.

I’ll stop now before I meander too far down my possible pasts.

Anywho, afterward, I went upstairs – with yet another Hemmingway daiquiri – and immediately started chatting with a redhead.

Her: …but I’m leaving for France tomorrow.
Me: Shame. Everyone runs off to Paris right when things get interesting.

Still, I actually spent most of the time talking to her friend who offered to take pics of me and vice versa.

Me: Sorry, I have to ask, how old are you?
Her: 29.
Me: Oh, so close…
Her: You’re not going to invite me downstairs for a drink with your friends?
Me: Tempting, but I have these rules, you see.

We chatted a bit more but then I had to dash off to go to the other birthday party waaaaaaay downtown.

RE Mike: You should get her number.
Me: (shrugging) Nah, I meet women every night. It’s not a good fit. No sense in my wasting her time, or her wasting mine. The night’s young and I gotta jet. Thanks, as always, for the invite!

I’ll tell you about the second birthday party tomorrow.

Still trying to catch up on sleep.

Location: earlier yesterday, a huge Manhattan apartment, getting a new phone case and then running into my buddy heading to Union Square. Small world.
Mood: allergic to the world right now
Music: I can speak to you by saying nothing at all (Spotify)
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My favourite and third favourite scarves

Sure I do

There’s a second story Japanese yakitori restaurant called Village Yokocho just a few steps from Solas that I used to go to on the regular with Rain and the college buddies.

Actually went on a few dates with one of the waitresses there. Sweet girl; she still has my favourite scarf but since it’s been a solid two decades, would feel weird asking for it back now.

I digress.

Inside Yokocho is a speakeasy called Angel’s Share that is (AFAIK) the only place that carries my buddy’s Paul‘s Nankai Shochu soju/rum.

The last time I remembered going there was way back in 2007 when I brought the girl with the blue jean eyes to get a drink during a snowstorm.

Fast-forward to this past weekend. I’d heard that both Angel’s Share and Yokocho were closing and I wanted to have one last drink before they did so I asked the Counselor to meet me there.

Unfortunately…

Me: It’s a two-hour wait.
Her: Oh wow…

We were planning on heading over to Solas afterward anywho so we just went there instead.

The entire joint was buzzing because there was a big party planned upstairs but the owner gave us a sectioned-off table so we could chat – actually, the same table as in this entry from 2017 – and we had the whole upstairs to ourselves for a spell.

Her: This is a really cool place.
Me: I’m glad you like it. Between my pretty face and the atmosphere, I’m hoping you won’t notice my awful personality.
Her: (laughing) It’s hard to overlook that.
Me: (nodding) Fair.

We ended up spending most of the night just talking and people-watching.

Me: Honestly, thank you for not being boring.
Her: Is that the worst thing that happens to you on a date?
Me: Well, yes, although women seem to get very handy with me for some reason. Still, I aware of how lucky I am that my worst-case scenario on a date is boredom while with women it’s grave bodily harm and/or death.
Her: (nodding) Yup. Guys are awful.
Me: On behalf of my kind, I’m sorry. But, in comparison, I’m a fucking delight.

I’d mentioned to the current bouncer – a relative of my old buddy Fouad, who died from cancer – that Fouad had literally met every woman of note I’d ever dated in my adult life.

Him: I miss him. He was such a good guy.
Me: (nodding) Yeah. He was the best.

That bummed us both out. But it was still a nice memory/conversation.

Ended up getting a series of drinks from friends and the owner and then she bought us some drinks as well. We also met some people along the way.

Me: What was that all about?
Her: (laughing) She saw you going to the bathroom and was worried about my being by myself so she came over to keep me company.
Me: Looks like we’re both making friends.

Ended up giving the bartender a big tip because he was so cool as well.

It was past midnight when we left, but we were both pretty wired so we went for a walk.

Me: Want to try something else?
Her: Sure!

We ended up making it around the way to a joint that used to be called The Thirsty Scholar – which has shown up in this blog before but never specifically by name – where we sat in a corner and chatted more.

In the middle of our talk, a fella walked up to her, pointed at me, and said, “You’re hanging out with a very cool guy.”

At this point, I’m pretty sure she thought she was being set up. After all, we got floated into Solas, got sat at a private table, got drinks sent to us, and now – in the middle of a second bar – some rando comes up and gives me a seemingly unsolicited compliment.

Her: (to me) Give me your phone and unlock it.
Me: (laughing) Here you go. I didn’t set this up, honestly.
Her: Sure. (turns to guy) Give me your number and take out your phone.

She said it all with such authority that the guy complied and I sat back amused. It’s interesting watching someone else slip into Lawyer-Mode.

She rang him to see if I had his number on my phone and I didn’t.

Her: (handing me back my phone and speaking to him) What’s your name?
Him: Yannick. I’m in the Marines and we watch his videos on the base.
Her: You two didn’t set this up?
Him: No, not at all. I just saw him and decided to say hello.
Me: You’re the fourth person that’s recognized me in the world. You made my night, thanks.
Her: (after Yannick left) Come on, was that for real?
Me: Evidently.

A pretty fun ending to very fun night. It was well past 2AM when we left. And super cold.

Me: You didn’t bring another jacket?
Her: I didn’t think I’d be outside long.
Me: (taking off my scarf and putting it around her neck) Here, take my scarf.
Her: You don’t have to do that.
Me: Sure I do. I insist.

And that’s how I gave away my favourite and third favourite scarves.

The End.

Location: earlier today, Paxibellum hanging with the boy and then Pez
Mood: optimistic
Music: don’t bore us, hit the chorus (Spotify)
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I’m a freaking delight

I’m a goddamn pleasure

Out of everything I did the past two weeks, a few meetings/dates were interesting enough to talk about.

I’ll tell you about two or three of them. The first was with this gamer girl that also fights.

We’d been floating around each other for a while but finally decided to meet up for drinks across the street from my physical therapist’s office.

Me: You’ll have to excuse me, I take pictures of my food and drink that no one ever sees.
Her: Oh, I do too!
Me: Ooooh, lemme take a picture of you taking a picture of the drinks.

No umbrellas in them, unfortunately.

I think we both expected to be out for a short while but the conversation was pretty interesting – I’m always grateful when I’m not bored – so we stayed out until late.

Her: What made you learn how to fight?
Me: (shrugging) The usual, I suppose. I was bullied a lot as a kid. You?
Her: (sighing) What you might imagine. Guys on dates.
Me: Ah, I apologize on behalf of my kind. On the plus side, however, it really lowers the bar for a fella like me. Compared to other guys, I’m a goddamn pleasure.
Her: (laughs) I can tell. At least someone gets some benefit.
Me: Heck yeah – thanks to the average frustrated chump, I’m a freaking delight.
Her: (laughs) I know that song!
Me: OMG, you get two points for knowing it!

She had just come from her gym, and I ‘d just come from mine and we were both a bit peckish so we ordered a small cheese plate so we could drink more.

The waiter was really cool and suggested that I get a Downeast Cider.

Him: (taking can and shaking it vigorously) So the deal with this cider is that you have to shake it really hard because it’s unfiltered and…
Me: (interrupting) OK, when you open it, please point it at her and not me?
Her: (laughing) Hey!
Me: Sorry, lady. This is New York. It’s every man – person – for himself. Themselves. You know what I mean.

The waiter then explained that you have to turn the can completely upside down to pour it.

Him: (later) Did you like it?
Me: What’s there not to like? It was tasty and came with a good story behind it.

The gamer girl and I ended up staying out until it was pretty late.

Me: I’m trying to stay in the golden mean – it’s something I was working on a lot years ago and just recently started up again.
Her: How so?
Me: (thinking) I’ve spent the last several years living in the past or in the future. Not to sound all touchy-feely but I’m trying to live in the present, which I haven’t for quite a while.
Her: Ah, like Ram Dass.
Me: Definitely in that vein. 
Her: (later) I should tell you, though. I don’t know if it’s right to bring kids into a world like this.
Me: So funny you bring that up! I spent an entire meal arguing with a buddy over that exact topic. So, no kids for you?
Her: No, sorry. You?
Me: That’s why I’m here, darling.
Her: (later) Would you be down to just hanging out, maybe come by my school and I’ll go by yours?
Me: Oh man, that’s perfect! I always feel it’s me giving the, “let’s just be friends,” speech.

The rain started coming down hard when we finally called it a (late) night.

Her: Shoot, it’s raining. Should we grab a cab?
Me: (dismissively) Please, I’m always prepared. (pull out umbrella and offer her my arm) Shall we?
Her: Lets.

I took a picture of us.

Me: We’re a pretty good-looking couple.
Her: We are.
Me: Shame, really.

Some of my fave people/friends are people that I very briefly dated like El, Caligirl, HEI, Lviv, and the Sexologist.

She seems like she’ll still be fun.

Oh man, the ride home was a disaster. Tried to get a cab, none. Subways weren’t working (at all).

Finally got out and managed to snag a single taxi that got me home well after midnight.

On the ride back, I did chat with someone that doesn’t want to be in this silly-little blog:

Her: How was your date?
Me: Entertaining.
Her: (laughing) Is she my biggest competition?
Me: Her? No, she’s fun and I’ll probably see her again, but my front-runner is someone else entirely.
Her: For now…

There’s more but that’s all I wanted to share with you now.

This week’s quieter but only by so much.

Location: 8PM, a local BBQ and gyro spot (CC)
Mood: super busy, on every front
Music: There must be something wrong with you, cuz I’m a freakin’ delight (Spotify)
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You’re in a Situationship

My mundane little life

Alison was never really into tech – at all. But she loved this ebook reader I got her years ago.

While I sold or donated most of her gadgets, that was the one thing I kept. It meant so much to me that I kept the very box it came in for well over a decade.

Because…well, kinda because of what the below cartoon illustrates.

And yet, I clumsily broke it the other day, which hurt more than I expected it to. But I’m trying to keep in the golden mean still, so I tossed it.

Grief really is such an odd and cruel little beast.

On a different matter entirely, I met up with some friends the other day and there was an attractive pharmacist there.

I was suspiciously seated next to her, but it didn’t matter since I can literally talk to anyone.

Her: So, what do you?
Me: The usual. I cook, bake, clean, teach people how to kill each other, and then go on dates-to-nowhere. You?

Later…

Him: So, what did you think of X?
Me: Oh, she’s lovely.
Him: And…?
Me: (puzzled) And what? She’s 29. I’m 49.
Him: You’re almost 49.
Me: Jesus Christ…

Similarly, I went to another party with the Surgeon and his wife. There was a young French dancer there too.

Once again, we ended up sitting next to each other.

Me: Wait, he lives in Texas? Oh, so you’re not in a relationship, you’re in a situationship.
Her: (laughing, then speaking in a cool French accent) Is that what it’s called?
Me: Evidently. I just found out that I was in a situationship for three years and immediately jumped into another one – or two…
Her: (later) Here, take my number.
Me: Ok then. Give me your phone and I’ll call myself.

As it turns out, the woman that taught me the phrase dropped me a 1AM text that was both sweet and sad.

I’ll keep the details of it to myself since I’m actually wondering where that one’s going.

But, getting back to the dancer, she’s actually on a plane back to Paris as you read this because she’s dancing in a show there.

Him: I see you got her digits.
Me: You know she’s 26, right?
Him: (shrugging)
Me: OK, then…

Speaking of planes, world events are really freaking me out. The other day, two Ospreys flew over my son’s school. It was nuts.

Him: (excitedly) Did you see that?! It was so cool!
Me: (concerned) Well, that’s one word for it.

But, so far, World War III hasn’t happened. Instead, it’s just the mundane little life I’ve grown to love in my own way.

Him: I want double chocolate chip cookies.
Me: But I just baked peanut butter oatmeal cookies.
Him: DOUBLE. CHOCOLATE. CHIP. COOKIES!!!!
Me: What’s in it for me?
Him: You’re my papa and you love me.
Me: (dammit) This is a compelling argument.

Very compelling, it turns out.

Seriously, I need a life partner just so this kid doesn’t take me for a ride for the next 20-30 years.

Location: the kitchen, baking like a madman
Mood: ambitious
Music: Thought that you would change, you didn’t (Spotify)
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Interestingly Weird

It’s like a salad but with alcohol

Saw my college friends – with alla our kids – the other day. They wanted to check out the gym. The kids had a blast running all over the mats.

Afterwards, we walked over to Shake Shack which is exactly what they all wanted.

I’ve known one of these guys since we were 16 years old – 32 years. It really boggles the mind.

There’s an older fella, that joined our gym that lives just a few blocks from my pad.

He runs a hedge fund, but used to play for the NFL, so he’s got a tonier address than I do. Much.

Mentioned to him that Charles Pan-Fried Chicken moved from Harlem to halfway between the two of us.

The lines have been around the block but he has people that work for him so he sent one of them to wait in line for us.

Him: What should she order?
Me: Definitely the fried chicken, the collard greens, and the ribs. God, the ribs are killer. Man, it’s good to have people.

She ordered enough to feed an army. Or just me.

Me: I’m going to kill all the chicken.
Him: Go ahead, we got it for you!

Because he used to play for the NFL, he’s a giant. But I think I ate more than him, which is a bit embarrassing.

I brought the kid over for dinner to boot, and his wife just adored him. It was sweet to see.

Me: (to kid) You’re making a mess!
Her: It’s fine, I have a son and remember this.
Me: You’re being too nice.

The kid literally just wanted the mac and cheese and the cornbread. He ate FOUR pieces of cornbread.

Him: I’m full.
Me: (scoffing) Yeah, of carbs.
Him: I love carbs!

Years ago, I was always the youngest of the people I hung out with. A number of them called me, “the kid,” a lot.

Since Alison died, I mostly hung out with people from my gym, who were all at least 15-20 years younger than me, making me the elder statesman of the group.

But, I’m trying to fix a buncha things in my life. One thing is how over-weighted I’ve been with much younger people in my social circle.

It’s fine, for the most part, but when you’re the oldest and most experienced person in a group, you’re usually giving information rather than getting it.

And, like I’ve said a buncha times before, you’re the average of the five people you hang out with the most and I feel my mind focusing on things that it shouldn’t be focusing on.

So, between hanging out with Steel and his surgeon brother, my college friends, and the NFL Player, I feel more like the version of me I was before everything went down.

Plus, I like hanging out with hyper-ambitious and successful people because their energy rubs off on me.

After all, it’s better to have success models versus failure models.

My life’s becoming interestingly weird again, which I kinda missed.

Later on, I invited the NFL Player out to eat some Chinese food to repay him for all the killer soul food we had.

Me: Notice something?
Him: What?
Me: You’re one of the only non-Chinese here. So, you know the food’s killer.

Ordered an obscene amount of food, as you might imagine.

We ended up grabbing drinks around the way – I ordered a mojito…

Him: What is that, exactly?
Me: It’s like a salad, but with alcohol.

…and some Hemmingway daiquiris.

He’s set on fixing me up with some of his friends.

Him: (showing me a picture) What about her?
Me: Oh, she’s pretty. But I’m currently…
Him: (interrupting) She’s worth half-a-billion dollars.
Me: Welp, suddenly, I’m a lot more interested. Although the last almost billionaire I dated was an asshole. Wait, you wanna set up a super wealthy woman with a dude that runs a gym?
Him: (laughs) You have your charm. (later) Let’s go talk to the singer…

Next thing you know, he’s shoving me in front of the singer at the bar we’re at.

Him: In terms of charm, out of 10, what would you give my buddy Logan here?
Her: (laughing) A solid 10.
Him: There you go. Logan?
Me: Jesus Christ…I can’t bring him anywhere. So, what’s your story?

Location: earlier today, learning a pressure pass with Pac
Mood: flattered
Music: know right here and now that I’d go anywhere with you (Spotify)
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My silly little blog

I’m Home

Her: OK, here’s the deal. You can have your silly little blog, just don’t mention me. And if you do want to mention me, just…don’t.
Me: (nodding) My silly little blog and I appreciate the accommodation.

It feels weird writing about my silly little life in the face of truly jaw-dropping world events.

Don’t recall being glued to the news as much as I have recently, outside of when 9/11 happened.

Things feel the same. I suppose that’s a post for the future but I just wanna wrap up a few loose ends from my last few posts.

I’ve had some version of this blog since 2005, with 2006.09.17 being my first entry here.

In that time, I’ve had a handful of people mad at me for something I wrote about them but that would happen like once a year, if that. Alison got mad at me for maybe one or two entries, total.

But in the past two weeks, I’ve had no less than four people mad about something I wrote. Even when I use pseudonyms and don’t post identifiable pictures, they’re still upset.

So, unless I get clear OKs to write about someone, I’m just not going to mention other people at all.

Him: Yeah, I’d appreciate that.
Me: Hokay.

Part of the reason I went out to California was to try and track down a friend that disappeared after COVID went down.

He’s pretty wealthy and well-connected, but intensely private, and just *poof* disappeared one day.

I’ve tried all my regular means of reaching him to no avail so I ended up heading out to LA to try and meet up with a woman I know he orbited around once. That didn’t go well.

Me: I’m in LA, if you’re free.
Her: Good for you. I’m not. You should have thought this out better.
Me: Evidently. Look, I just wanna know if he’s alive.
Her: How would I know, Logan? Let it go.
Me: This is going well.

On the flip side, a fella I knew from NYC was also in LA, purely by happenstance.

Me: What are you doing here? I thought you were in Nicaragua.
Him: My buddy called and said the house next to his was on the market so I bought it.
Me: Man, it must be good to have that kinda scratch. You free for lunch on Monday?
Him: Sure, let’s do it.

We ended up meeting around my brother’s pad. He’d never been to that part of the town so we met up and ordered a plate of food called “The Family Table” that was supposed to feed a family of four.

Me: This is not gonna be enough food.

We ended up ordered The Family Table, two large specialty rolls, and two other dishes.

 

He’s a guy that sold several companies to Google and Facebook but studied a lotta philosophy.

We spent the entire time arguing about the ethics of having children.

It was one of the more interesting and enlightening conversations I’ve had in my life but, in light of everyone that got mad at me for writing about them in my blog, I’ll just leave it at that.

Was still hungry afterward and ended up buying some pastries before heading back to my brother’s.

Spent the rest of the time eating and working on some things that’ve been percolating in my brain for a while.

I just needed to get somewhere else to figure it all out.

The morning I was going back, I order $40 worth of food at Lucky Boy, including a foot-long chili dog with chili and onions, another large bag of onion rings, a breakfast burrito with carne asada and a fish burrito for my brother.

This was my brekkie; those yellow logs are like 10 inches long.

It was the first time in ages – ages – that I couldn’t finish everything.

Also, I realized that I was gonna be in a tube for the next six hours and eating all that food was probably not the best idea.

Me: I have made a terrible miscalculation here.

BUT the trip back ended up being uneventful. I wrote my mother-in-law that I had a cast-iron stomach.

Even I couldn’t believe I didn’t have a gastronomic accident in the air.

Ended up hopping the LIRR back and was home in less than an hour.

Me: I’m home! (sighing) I’m home.

Location: earlier today, playing tag with the boy
Mood: gutted
Music: I just thought I would have you all my life (Spotify)
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Women don’t get that luxury, Logan

Horror and a buncha random texts

Lately, my life’s been a whirlwind of things, almost all bad. Don’t even know where to start.

Since my injury in October, I’ve been to physical therapy for months. Finally got cleared to go back on the mats – without a brace – about two weeks ago.

Well, earlier this week, stepped onto the mats and someone I was sparring with got hold of my ankle and torqued it so hard that one girl said she heard it across the room.

She was so concerned that she wrote me, which was super sweet. We have some solid people in our gym.

(In our gym’s defense, this was a visitor and not one of our normal guys.)

It happened in a flash; I didn’t have a chance to tap. In terms of pain, it was just slightly less than the time I popped my ACL.

Regardless, after four months of being in rehab, two weeks of limited normalcy, I’m right back to where I started in October and injured again.

It’s less than ideal.

HEI saw my post and, like a million people I know, is dealing with her own health issues, so she shot me this.

There’s definitely something in the air.

Me: No! My LEFT hand. You have to hold my LEFT hand.
Him: But why?
Me: Because…because I need my right hand free.

I’ve been in my head a lot lately for a number of reasons I’m still trying to sort out.

Unfortunately, it’s hard to think clearly about anything what with the rising lunacy of the city.

The recent horrific and senseless killings of Christina Yuna Lee and Michelle Go – both Asian women – has my female and Asian friends on high alert.

I’m already stressed walking around with my kid when I’m relatively healthy. Being injured all these months have made matters worse. This latest injury, all the more so.

Plus, I feel bad for the kid because he’s too young to understand.

Although I recently met up with a young woman and her nine-year-old daughter and the topic of Christina Yuna Lee came up.

Maybe I shouldn’t keep him for knowing the world as it really is.

Daughter: Who was that (Christina Yuna Lee)?
Me: A woman, who got hurt.
Woman: (correcting me to her daughter) No. She was killed. She was killed by a stranger.
Me: (later) Don’t you think she’s a little young to know about these types of horrors?
Woman: (shaking her head) Girls don’t get that luxury of not knowing these things, Logan. Women don’t get that luxury.

I get that, I suppose, as much as a guy can get that.

Everything’s a horror these days but I forget that horror comes in layers of more horror.

Him: Are you mad to me?
Me: (shaking head) No, I’m sorry. Papa’s foot hurts and I’m just…frustrated.
Him: If I could, I’d carry you!
Me: (smiling) I know you would, kid. I know you would. Here, take my hand. My left hand. My other left, kid.

A babysitter I recently hired shot me this text and I was both flattered and somewhat creeped out.

This happens to me with some regularity so I can only imagine what a woman’s life must be like.

Actually, TBH, I’d rather not.

Location: waiting for the subway elevator
Mood: a bad mix
Music: wish that I could go back and say, “Hey, now or never” (Spotify)
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