Tag: random meetings

Categories
personal

If only for a while

Her: (exasperated) LOGAN! When I tell you to go out to go out and check on my friend, I don’t mean make a pass at her!
Me: In my defense: (a) you weren’t totally clear on that point, (b) you know what I am.

Busy weekend. New roomie moved in. Work drama My brother came to see me too; we hung out with PB, WM and Kathy for a fashion designer’s party. Met a blondie that went to the same grade school as me and lives around the way. I asked her to tell me a secret and she told me a sad one.

Sunday, spoke to HEI and told her that, while I didn’t lose anyone very close to me in 9/11, can’t leave it behind me. And I wanna. Also spoke to Heartgirl, who said she saw a lotta street beef over the weekend. In the backa my head, thought, I can understand, a little, why there’s so much rage.

Speaking of Heartgirl, a conversation with her not that long ago sparked another one with someone else from my past.

Me: I was thinking maybe…maybe you were right.
Her: Oh, Logan, I’m not. I’m sorry.I didn’t mean it. All the cruel things I said.
Me: Ah…Caligirl, doesn’t matter. (pause) How’s married life?
Her: It’s nice. (faint laughter) You should try it some time…
Me: (pause) I’m trying. I’m trying so hard…
Her: (sadly) I didn’t mean…
Me: You did. (pause) It’s ok. I earned it. It’s only right. It’s only fair.You get what you give in this life. But I hope you’re wrong. Maybe you’re right but I hope…
Her: (interrupting) I hope I’m wrong too. We all deserve to be happy. If only for a while.

Location: my parent’s guest room
Mood: hard to say
Music: for a minute it lets me let it all go.

Categories
personal

Our trespasses

 

In any relationship, there’s always the time when you’re faced with two competing, equally valid, points of view.

  • On the one hand, you should never accept piss-poor behaviour.
  • On the other hand, you should forgive people their screw-ups.

Friday, was supposed to see someone but she just completely flaked. Not even a text saying, Not showing up. Her explanation was that this is her reality – this is acceptable behaviour for her and her friends. Which only makes me believe more than ever that you are the company you keep. Should point out we got into what I thought was a minor disagreement but what she thought was a full on argument prior to the evening.

When we finally spoke, I was livid.

But here’s the thing: after all was said and done, she pointed out one time that I showed piss-poor behaviour. And she said she forgave me.

You know, every night, every single one, I ask to be forgiven our trespasses as we forgive those that trespass against us. These can’t be empty words. Cause, I gotta believe you’re more than just your thoughtless screw-ups. Cause, I gotta believe that I’m more than my awful things.

———-

Saturday, in the midst of a hurricane, see LisaV and her friends downtown at onea my favorite joints, a hidden bar called East Side Company. No signs, no lines. Just the number 49, baby. Meet her friend, a tall, hella attractive Asian girl and ask for her info – but it’s not for me; she’s exactly my buddy’s type. Sometimes, you take one for the team, yeah?

Sunday, meet up with Heartgirl for a last minute thing. Stop by her place and help her bake cookies and discuss Scrabble. We had The Talk but it was nuthin I didn’t already know. Put our shades on and we’re off to a BBQ in Brooklyn where we hung out with her friends. Nice group but more on that some other time.

Get home Sunday night with a belly fulla charred meat, fatty carbs and beer. Nice but in my head I think, Man, summer’s really not my season.

But fall, man…fall’s my season. Cannot wait to see my fall blue sky again.

Location: 16:20 yest, eating burger #2 in Brooklyn
Mood: beat
Music: I know enough to know when someone trusts you

Categories
personal

Public Service Announcement

How to do well in college

 

Had quite the weekend involving PCD, WM, a pool in Jersey City and copious amounts of charred meat and meat products.

But enough about me, let’s chat about you. Realized that I’ve got a lot of younger readers – which isn’t too hard as I’m ancient. School’s about to start so, thought I’d let you know about how I did college. Graduated cum laude from an Ivy League; this is not to brag but to let you know that what I’m about to tell you worked for me and might for you:

  1. Took mostly lecture classes.
  2. Crammed all my classes into M-Th.
  3. Never missed a class and wrote down almost everything the teacher said. (1x)
  4. At night, transcribed all my notes into a computer, rearranged and sorted. (2x) Any questions I had, I cleared up with my TA and rearranged my notes again. (3x)
  5. Printed out all my notes Friday morning, and headed to NYC. Read notes on bus. (4x) Used time to write any reports that needed to be written.
  6. At Penn Station, put notes away and meet girlie. Work. Go to clubs. Limelight, Paladium, Red Zone, Mars, Nell’s. All gone now. So sad. I digress.
  7. Sunday, took bus back to school, read notes again on bus ride up (5x). Watched Simpsons.
  8. Last weekend of month, reread all notes from the month. (6x)
  9. Weeks before finals, read notes again. (7x-100x)
  10. Repeat for remaining semesters.

Man, I knew that stuff cold. It’s what happens when you re-live a lecture class 7-100 times. Still remember that the acceleration of a free falling object under the influence of gravity is 9.8 meters per second, per second.

Added bonuses

  • Always had a three-day weekend.
  • Always had those weekends free.
  • Didn’t read the books. Stopped buying textbooks when I realized that teachers just wanna hear their own words when they read essay exams (be careful with this one – I dunno what your teachers are gonna be like).
  • Didn’t do the homework. If it wasn’t graded, I didn’t do it. Just knew my notes, cold.
  • You actually learn what you’re supposed to learn.
  • Could sell my notes for $50 a pop.
  • Can have interactions 17 years later like this:

Me: Did you know that the acceleration of a free falling object under the influence of gravity is 9.8 meters per second, per second?
Her: I’m sorry what?
Me: Ah, nuthin, just geeking out. But enough about me, let’s chat about you….my name’s Logan. And you are?

Location: 15:00 yest, Port Liberte, NJ
Mood: accomplished
Music: Oh academia you can’t pick me up

Categories
personal

We know…

Location: 22:00 yest, walking down Broadway
Mood: still in pain
Music: And now I’m never gonna get to sleep

Me: Wait, did I make a pass at you the other night?
Her: (thinking) No.

Me: (relived) Thank goodness…

Her: I know!

Meet a pretty German girl Monday night on the way home. Woulda asked for her info but, as I said, I’m distracted. Naja, I say, angenehm…tschüss.

Get home, shower and run out the door to meet up with LisaV. We’re supposed to go to a church function but she can’t get outta work so we meet up at Mooncake Diner. It’s packed so we bounce to Excellent Pork Chop House for take out and head back to her place where her roommate’s painting. We inhale it all over conversation and a glass table. Surprisingly, it’s actually excellent.

Head out to meet up with an old friend but we can’t coordinate so I swing by Rain’s for some scotch. A photoshoot’s going on with some models so I take a few pics of them and his new canine friend before taking the long walk home.

Tuesday? Tuesday was a whole ‘nother story.

Too many faces and places in my head.
Some I wish would stay away.
Some I wish would stay this way.
With my luck, the ones I want to stay will go.
And the ones I want to go…we know…

Categories
personal

Distracted

Location: home
Mood: in pain
Music: Once again I found myself with my friends

Her: Home on a Friday? Want some company?

Me: (pause) I’m…I don’t think that’s a good idea.

Stayed in on Friday; just tired and irritated. Saturday morning, saw PCD for brunch. We ended up cooking and I made a frittata. Since she was a pro, I was flattered that she thought it was good. Went off to class and got a beatdown. I’m quite literally COVERED with bruises (do not click if squeamish). Should take up yoga. Or at least something that doesn’t involve people stabbing, slashing, kicking, choking, strangling and punching me. Yes. Yoga.

Spoke to Heartgirl afterward. She confided in me something and I was a bit touched. We’re more alike than she knows.

Saturday, LisaV invites me to a house party downtown. It’s a literal and figurative sweatbox. An hour in, a girl grabs me and sticks a huge bottle of tequila down my throat and, later, kisses me on the cheek – of course she’s 22. Before I leave, another girl leans in and kisses me too. Huh. Must be the tequila. Close out the night with this cool blonde that boxes and threw me a nasty uppercut. Impressive.

Note to self: Hang out with LisaV more often.

At 2:00, walk LisaV home across the LES. Woulda been terribly romantic if she wasn’t seeing someone and I wasn’t…so damn distracted.

Him: You didn’t get anyone’s number? Did you even ask?

Me: No…I’m very distracted.

Him: Dude, you gotta fix that.


Categories
dating personal

Front-runners & Back-burners

So my date on Saturday was really fun. Here’s the kicker though – wasn’t with Heartgirl.

Friday night, meet up with Hazel, Paul, and WM in the UWS. Elle’s there with her two friends, one of whom wants to step up to this striking blue-eyed blond bombshell. He leaves without so much as a hello to her so I turn to her: Hi there – lemme tell you story, morning glory…

She’s super nice but she’s the same name as my mother plus Elle’s there; not that I think she cares but still. I tell her we’ll run into each other again and politely eject. Besides, I tell WM, as we exit and turn onto 79th Street, there’s always something ’round the corner.

Sometimes, quite literally. Cause I immediately lock eyes with a grey-eyed girlie outside a bar who grins at me and says, Hi there! WM rolls his eyes as I wink at her and say, Howdy.

Me: The best thing about NYC’s the random meetings, yeah?
Her: (smiles) Yeah. What’s your name?

We had a great conversation but, you guessed it: 22. Fail. Speaking of fail, Saturday, Heartgirl cancels. Again. I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t disappointed. Cause I don’t know her all that well, but what I do know, I like very much. Luckily, I’m not one to cry into my porridge:

Me: Dinner and a movie?
Pretty Cake Decorator: I’m not sure. I mean – I don’t really know you.
Me: (deep breath) This may not be the smartest idea I’ve ever had, but…my last name’s Lo. Google me.

She swings by and we end up watching two films and ordering in. We somehow find ourselves doing Stupid Human Tricks: I do a split and she touches the back of her head with her toes. We both end up laughing on the floor.

PCD: I’m glad I came over. (pause) But I can see this has potential for a lot of disappointment.
Me: (quietly) Well that’s…sad.

There’s that word again: disappointment. Isn’t that the worst, worst part of dating?

Heartgirl just told me why she couldn’t make it. It was a very good reason, actually. But there’s always a very good reason to bail, yeah? To quote HEI, everyone has their front-runners and back-burners. To add to that, sometimes you’re the front-runner, sometimes you’re the back-burner. Just how it shakes out.

While I think Heartgirl and I’ll always be friends, there’s never a really a good point to stick around, romantically, if you’re someone’s back-burner. Mrs. Lo didn’t raise any stupid sons.

Hopeless romantic ueber-nerds, yes. Stupid, no.

Cause I believe someone’ll see what you’re worth; you’ll be someone’s front-runner someday and she’ll be yours. Until then we all do just fine on our own.

Location: my pad
Mood: complacent
Music: I’m just gonna drive

Categories
personal

No Sex and the City

Location: 22:43 yest, my desk with a glass of rum
Mood: confused
Music: maybe You’re gonna be the one who saves me

Her: I read your blog. It’s weird because it almost sounds like you’re giving me lines because you tell me the exact same things you say in your blog.
Me: It’s not like I take someone else’s words and pretend they’re my own – what I write is what I actually say to my friends in real life.

A buddy swings by on Friday for a visit but I don’t have much time to hang out. Spend the night watching the last James Bond flick (which rocks) with HEI and some takeout.

Saturday’s a strange day. Get caught in the rain before I head to a dinner party with the girl in the top pic from this entry when Syd’s lens cap falls into the subway tracks. Have to wait an hour for someone to fish it out. At the party, the toilet gets clogged and I’m the only one that tells the host about it. Course, people think I did it, but whaddya gonna do? Meet a blue-eyed girl whom I walk back and tell I’ll meet up for caramels. She says she’s game.

Because of the movie, lately a lotta people tell me that my life is like the male Sex and the City. Dunno – never seen an episode. Don’t understand why, though, it’s not like I sit around drinking pink drinks, gossiping all the time and jumping from bed to bed. It’s tough enough falling asleep in my own bed.

Besides, life is in the living – you should be living your real life and not watching someone else’s made up one, yeah?

Unless, of course, it’s James Bond.

———-

Yes, it looks like something interesting. It’s not, just friends.

Been wondering if the SING really exists. It’s the hopeless romantic in me; after thinking HeartGirl was her, now I keep wondering if I’ll ever run into her again. How ridiculous.

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
personal

It’s me

I’m not an ill-willed person

Since I lost my phone, I ran through all my old messages.

I’m sorry I couldn’t come…
Mr. Logan, this is…

Hey, it’s me…

The last one stopped me cold.

In response to the person that sent me an email a while back, the answer is: 24 hours. Sometimes less than that. Sometimes it just takes one screwup to go from being someone that calls and says Hey it’s me, to being a complete stranger.

———-

Yesterday, was out in Brooklyn grabbing some court papers. Not fun. Sheridan had a dinner to attend and the hostess wrote to him, “Make sure you invite Logan Lo!” He laughed and said I had to come. It was another catered affair with wealthy lawyers, entertainment people and artists.

The hostess was trying to set up Sheridan with people. She said that she would say, That’s a lovely dress/outfit, to indicate that the lady was available. Clever. People said she fixed up Kevin Klein and Phoebe Cates. Who knows?

A French waitress I briefly dated was there completely by random. Literally, completely unexpected. She told me to call her; told her I would.

Bounced early with this clothing manufacturer because Sheridan got us into the Hamptons party in midtown. It was thrown by the same guys that threw this and this. Open bar, beautiful people, the usual song and dance. Walking around, bump into the French waitress again! Call me; I will.

John Leguizamo was the guest of honor – and the host mispronounced his name, which clearly pissed him off. Had a lot on my mind, and rum in my system, so I really wasn’t into it. Sheridan and hopped before midnight. Walking up 10th Avenue, I rang someone.

Me: Hey, it’s me.
Her: Hey.

Location: 9:10AM, kitchen making coffee & eggs
Mood: busy
Music: I am not an ill-willed person I do not wish bad things for you

Categories
personal

Ships in the night

Met the Ship in the Night Girl Again

Me: Ships in the night?
Her: I’m sorry what?
Me: (laughing) My mistake…thought you were someone else.

Friday, go to a party thrown by Jenny and friends – they hired a bartender and had an open bar. Sweeeeeet. Saturday, spend the day roaming the hood with with HEI. We end up having a wind-tunnel-like lunch at the Boat Basin. She’s all sorts of lovely.

Saturday night, go to a friend’s b-day party. Meet someone I swear is the Ship In the Night Girlie.

Her: It sounds like it could be me, but I don’t remember.
Me: (disappointed) Then it wasn’t you.
Her: How do you know it wasn’t me?
Me: Cause you’d remember a fella like me.
Her: That’s awfully egotistical of you.
Me: (sighing) Don’t mean it to be. But it’s true.

She and I hang out with Paul and WM til six in the morning. We finish up the night at a French bistro downtown as the run rises. Lose my phone – ugh. That’s a whole entry in itself.

Don’t get into bed until 7AM. Wake up a little while later and run in the rain to meet up for a memorial lunch for Mike. His sister gives me an envelope fulla singles; said she wanted me to hand them out to anyone that asked for help cause Mike woulda liked that. Said I would.

Hop off to church where I meet a girl from Holland and end up walking this girl Beth home – she’s involved but fun company. Give her the nickel tour before we run into Jenny and some other people ’round the way.

Finally get a few moments to think. Wonder if I’ll ever see Ship in the Night Girl again. Stupid isn’t it? You see a girl for a moment and she’s in your head weeks later?

Her: (to WM) Your friend’s so peculiar. (to me) You’re so peculiar. Maybe I am the Ship in the Night Girl.
Me: You’re not, but thanks. (taking her hand) We’ll be friends, yeah?
Her: Yes.

There’re numbers I’ll never get again in that phone I lost. Seems like more ships pass me in the night than I thought.

———-

Ran into my friend Christianne tonight too. Here’s a story about her or you can just listen to her sing to you now…

 

Location: 7AM yest, stumbling home
Mood: hoping
Music: Hey Snowflake! What ‘cha doin on Arlington Place?