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personal

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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personal

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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Categories
personal

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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dating personal

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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personal

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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personal

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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personal

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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personal

A Strange & Complicated Evening Pt 2: Putting on the Mask

Afraid of Yesterday

Me: Technically, any woman I meet is your competition and any man you meet is mine.
Her: (laughing) Oh, Logan…they’re not my competition.
Me: Fair.

It turns out the Counselor was in the same hospital, the same building, the same floor – the same wing – that Alison was during the early part of her illness.

Of course.

Felt that same feeling of “this can’t possibly be real,” that I felt for most/all of her sickness that I hadn’t felt in a really long time. It was an unwelcome but familiar feeling.

Dunno why but, I decided to go see the Counselor and – as if by auto-pilot – made my way from the gym to the Upper East Side.

That’s not true. I do know why I went to see her. There were two reasons, in fact, but more on that later.

Visiting hours were long closed but I managed to convince the guard to let me in after a solid 15 minutes of chatting with her. The truth is a powerful thing and I think the guard knew it would be good for the Counselor (and me) if I made it upstairs.

When I walked into the hospital, I was greeted with the same view that I first saw the day I first went there with Alison in that goddamn ambulance.

It was just missing the Christmas tree.

I walked past the same everything that I did all those years ago and tried to keep it together as I maneuvered my way past several security guards, nurses, and various support staff, alla whom noted that I didn’t have a Visitors Pass a solid hour after visiting hours ended.

I was clearly not supposed to be there. I suppose a bright red leather jacket doesn’t help matters.

But, after all that, I finally made it to her room and walked in.

As always, during times like this, I put on my mask: I pushed all that doubt to the side of my mouth, straightened my back, took a deep breath, put on a big smile, and walked in to see a set of pretty eyes.

Me: This is a terrible date venue you picked, I gotta say.

I settled onto the windowsill and looked out across the river to see the exact same view I saw all those years ago.

Me: (staring out) These windows don’t open all the way, you know?
Her: I didn’t.
Me: (nodding) Yeah. I tried to jump out of them years ago and I found that out.

It got a little darker than that but I was there to try to cheer her up, not bring her down.

As comedy relief, her roommate would let out a hacking cough (non-COVID related) every so often while we were in a deep conversation, which doesn’t sound funny but it was such an odd situation that it was.

There’s more, quite a bit more, but most of that’s her story and not mine to tell, as always.

I’ll just tell you that she’s probably going to be fine.

I was glad I went. Can’t remember the last time someone was that happy to see me. Forgot what it was like to have some kindness. That was probably the most attractive thing about her.

Her: It was sweet of you to come.
Me: (shaking head) No, not at all. I just wanted to make sure you were ok. You should get some rest.

So, that’s the first reason I went. Honestly couldn’t tell you if she was more grateful that I went or if I was more grateful that she let me see her.

The second reason, though, was that I’ve been forcing myself to not think of Alison for…years now. Think I knew that, if I went to that hospital, I’d be forced to think of her and remember her.

And I wanted that.

As I made my way downstairs, everything came rushing back at me at once. The smell of the place, the feeling of dread, it hit me as I felt as if it was December of 2015 all over again. Like it was yesterday.

By the time I got to the ground floor, I went straight to the same bathroom that I threw up in twice before over Alison and did it once again.

Honestly, though, after I cleaned myself off and left, I felt better.

I remembered Alison. I remembered that version of me; the one that was a new father, trying desperately to save his wife he loved more than anything.

Not knowing that they were all already fucked.

My gift, if you will, is to forget. It’s a survival mechanism and part of why I have this blog; because I know I’ll forget things. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now.

After all, fear is forward, no one is afraid of yesterday.

I walked outside, hopped a cab home, and was neck-deep in my thoughts when the Acrobat called.

Her: How was your night?
Me: You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

It was a short convo. I was worried about the Counselor, which sounds silly as she’s a stranger to me. But she didn’t deserve anything that had happened to her.

After a while, I shot a text to my mother-in-law asking if she was awake and she replied yes.

So, I rang her and told her what happened.

Me: I try so hard to forget Alison. And I feel guilty about that. But I just wanted you to know that…I loved her so much, mom. (deep breath) I loved her so much.
Her: (gently) I know, Logan. Try to get some rest.

Location: just north of Solas, being tossed out like garbage
Mood: don’t even know how to begin to tell you
Music: I’m gonna need somebody (Spotify)
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personal

The Floater

Rising rapidly in the rankings

Friend: Please, you seek out [rich and successful] people.
Me: That’s not exactly true.

It’s been a strange few weeks.

Some important people in my life left, some came back, and some seem to have just arrived.

Still trying to make sense of it all.

Saw some college friends – along with their kids – this past weekend.

Never told you this but the head surgeon at one of the major hospitals is a buddy of mine.

When Alison had one of her billion surgeries, she was super weak and couldn’t make the return trip to remove the staples in her skull. So, he made a house call, came over, and removed them for us. No questions asked.

It was a super kind gesture for a dude that is ridonk high-ranking in NYC. He never saw her again.

It hurt me to write that.

Dunno why I feel compelled to tell you that.

We met again at the party in NJ from a few years back. And this past weekend, I brought the boy to his (ginormous!) apartment in Chelsea after the kid and I met his brother and nephew for dim sum in Chinatown.

It was bittersweet. The boy, however, had a blast.

Him: Do we have to go?
Me: ‘Fraid so, kiddo.
Him: Awwwww…

Speaking of doctors, got fixed up with one recently. Totally my type BUT just zero chemistry.

Me: If you were trapped on a desert island, what would be the one thing you’d want to have?
Her: Why would I be trapped on a desert island?

That’s how the entire evening was. It was like pulling teeth. God, I hate dating.

Although, we did discuss just that.

Her: Well, there is this one guy. He’ll never commit but it’s hard to just stop things with him.
Me: Ah, a floater. I had a floater of my own for a while, once. So, I get it. But ultimately, it’s all just a waste of everyone’s time.

While I was chatting with her, a smoking hot lawyer that I met recently hit me up.

She actually WAS a law professor while I only wished to be one.

Her: It’s been an extreeeeeeeemely [long day]. And it’s not looking like it’s wrapping up anytime soon. What are you up to?
Me: I’m writing you on a date if that means anything. I’m an awful person but I’m bored to tears at the moment.
Her: Do you need an emergency work call? Just say the word.
Me: I would but I’m trying to wrap this up naturally.

It’s funny, you kinda realize what you want more when presented with a better option.

So, I took it.

Me: (exiting) Another date-to-nowhere, over.
Her: Ugh, those are the worst. I’m at least marginally more fun.

Thought about what my friend said about my seeking out rich and successful people. There’s some truth to that but it’s along the same lines as, “I married Alison for her money.”

It’s not that I want to be friends with them because they’re wealthy and wildly successful, it’s that they made them themselves wealthy and wildly successful. That ambition and drive is what attracts me.

Told you once that you’re the average of the five people that you hang out with the most.

When you have a relationship with someone, you don’t just have a relationship with them, you have a relationship with the five people they hang out with the most, and the five people that each one of those five hang out with and so on.

And if they’re all lame with zero ambition, that rubs off on them, and – ultimately – on you.

A buddy once told me that he hung out with me so much that he became me. But, I realized that he actually became the person he was crushing on since high school because that’s who he spends the most time floating around and aspiring to be.

The thing is that I stopped hanging out with his crush – who’s, honestly, quite nice but just so…lame; she’s not particularly bad, but she’s also not particularly anything, really.

And I realized that I continued hanging out with him, the lameness of his crush would glom onto me and I couldn’t have that.

It probably sounds elitist to you, but there are 7.753 billion people in the world and you can’t hang out with all of them.

Why not have your five be wildly successful versus just meh?

Besides, now that I’ve got the kid, gotta be very careful who I let into his life. Because they’ll leave a bit of themselves with me, and I’ll – in turn – leave them with him.

Which, depending on the person, might not be a bad thing.

Her: Actually, the case I’m working on is in the papers right now. Google, [my client] and you can read up on where we are right now.
Me: (minutes later) Holy shitballs, Counselor! (later) I’m super turned on right now. You’re rising rapidly in the rankings
Her: (laughing) Does first place get a gold star?
Me: (scoffing) Please, I’m the prize! What woman wouldn’t want a neurotic and clumsy, but somewhat charming, non-practicing Ivy-League-educated lawyer that fights and cooks?
Her: (continues laughing)

Location: earlier today, showing Chad now to remove a flapper
Mood: stupidly optimistic
Music: Got some brand new wings. No, we won’t go back. (Spotify)
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personal

Lil Rollers

Gaius Julius Caesar

Her: How did you meet your wife?
Me: (laughing) Same way I met you, darling.

My buddy is currently juggling about three or four women right now. Each one was a street pickup, which might sound crass to you, but it’s not meant to be; a street pickup simply means someone you have zero nexus with – a total stranger.

When I met Alison, she was just a beautiful girl walking into a club I was walking out of. I literally thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

Even though she was on date – with a guy called Tall Scott, which gives you some indication of what he looked like relative to 5’8″ me – I knew I had to meet her. Even if that meant I’d get socked in the face.

Best decision I ever made.

The best decision she ever made was to go on a date with Tall Scott (who, I should note, was a nice fella, but she was mine, not his).

Most people have some nexus with the person they love the most in the world with: They’re classmates, gym buddies, co-workers, something.

But a street pickup is zero nexus – it’s a complete and utter stranger.

Now, as it turned out, we ended up having a friend in common, but when we first spoke to each other, we didn’t know that.

For some reason, I’m quite proud of that fact.

Me: In one of our first conversations, I told her that Julius was Caesar’s middle name. His first name was Gaius.
Her: (laughing) I never knew that.
Me: And now you do.
Her: (later) You’re very nice. But you’re obviously still in love with your wife.
Me: I am. It’s even more complicated than you might imagine. (shrugging) I don’t think true love ever dies. And I don’t think most people would call me, “nice.”
Her: What would they call you?

Me: Did you have fun?
Him: I loved it! Can we come again tomorrow?!
Me: (laughing) Sorry, kiddo. Only once a week for us for now.
Him: Awwwwwwww!

We just recently launched our kids program that we named the Paxibellum Lil Rollers. My son was a bit apprehensive but both Chad and I were floored at just how good our buddy Mike was at teaching kids.

For example, at one point, he fell and started to cry and Mike totally brought him back and made him just fall in love with program.

Today was his second class and, when he came in, I told him Mouse might be there so he hit the mat and started running around screaming at the top of his lungs, “I wanna see Mousie!!!”

It was pretty adorbs, I gotta say.

She ended up not coming but Pez was there – she’s going to be the assistant kids coach – and the kid was thrilled to have a friend on the mats.

Afterwards, I got them all Taco Bell, just because … oh, you know

Anywho, if you have a kid between the ages of 5 and 14 in Manhattan, bring them by our gym at 4 W 18th Street. They’ll be in great hands.

Me: Dude, he’s so good at this.
Chad: Yeah, man, he really is.

Tonight, my kali coach was late to class so I covered the first half.

It was weird teaching again. I think the last time I taught a class was maybe in 2014. And, I gotta admit, I missed it.

Chad: I’ve never seen you teach before.
Me: Really? (thinking) Oh, I guess that’s right.
Him: You’re good at it. You should do it more.
Me: Maybe someday. I got the kid. (laughing) Besides, we can’t afford me yet.

Location: home
Mood: remorseful
Music: that’s how you’ll stay. That’s why, darling (Spotify)
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