Tag: random meetings

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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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Omens

A family discussion

I met with a fella named Mikio Shinagawa in February of 2012 for a project that never happened.

We met after hours at his restaurant Omen and he offered me some tea that I took. This was back when I was still someone and not the broken, but high-functioning, charming alcoholic nobody you all know and love.

He passed away recently. Told him that I’d come back some day to try out his restaurant with my wife. He laughed and said he was looking forward to meeting her and that he’d treat us like royalty.

Never saw him again.

Another part of my possible pasts. He seemed like a nice fella. Fucking cancer.

We’ve had a lotta new students in the gym and I’m reminded just how different people that regularly train are from everyone else.

Him: What about you? How long have you been doing this?
Me: (thinking) 17 years?
Him: 17 years!? Wait, how old are you?

I’ve actually been studying kali for 17 years, 8 months, and 6 days.

Me: This is the longest I’ve gone without holding a weapon in my right hand.
Him: That’s a sentence that I don’t think I’ve ever said.

Speaking of the gym, one of our guys got COVID and may have given it to Chad, or the other way around.

Or maybe it was me?

See, about a week-and-a-half ago, I dropped the kid off at school, came home, and was so tired that I decided to take a nap at 8:45AM.

The next thing you know, it was 12:30 in the afternoon. I can’t remember the last time I slept in/overslept. I attributed it to my being out and about all week.

At the same time, I had a sore throat that I attributed to my (exceedingly) dry room.

Once I turned on my humidifier, everything seemed to go away and it was – at most – a 24-hour thing, so I didn’t think anything of it.

That is, until Chad called me to tell me he was gonna shut down the school.

Looking into the Omicron variant, because its symptoms seem to be milder, and because it doesn’t have the lack of smell/taste indicator, I wonder if that’s why it’s so contagious: Because it doesn’t act like the COVID virus we’ve all grown accustomed to, people don’t think they have it.

In any case, I took a PCR test, but even after three days, I don’t have the results yet. It seems that the company that gave me my test is so bad at getting results back in time that the NYS Attorney General just issued them a warning two days ago.

Which means that my luck remains true to form.

2021.12.24_08:34 Edit: Got my results – negative

Speaking of luck – and not being able to hold a weapon in my right hand – I’m running into Mouse randomly all the time; by no machinations from either of us.

We both happen to see the same physical therapist and we both happen to have appointments at the same time. Me for my hand, her for her leg.

But it’s been nice talking with her without all the weirdness that happens after a breakup. She’s (very) active in the gym and one of the rules I have is: Let true things be true.

The truth of the matter is that she’s now part of the fabric of my life, and that of my friends, so we both have to be adults about the whole thing.

Which, let’s be honest, isn’t really saying much as it pertains to me.

Location: hopping out of her car at 34th Street to get the kid
Mood: nostalgic
Music: Look at you through kinder eyes, kinder eyes (Spotify)
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Categories
personal

The cool kids (2X)

Sprinting away

My mom misses my dad a lot these days. It’s the holidays, I think.

Her: It’s been four years since they left. Time moves so fast.
Me: The hours drag but the years sprint away. Yes.

While the gym was closed, Chad swung by to go over some plans for 2022.

The weather’s been freakishly warm and nice in the city lately; we’re obviously going to hell in a hand basket what with climate change and all but I suppose one takes any win one can.

We got a salad and then went to get a cup of coffee.

One of our students lived around the way so I hit him up; he’s the one with the second nicest apartment I’ve ever been to.

Me: Are you around for a cup of joe with me and Chad in the hood?
Him: Now? Yes! I am a cool kid…
Me: Thank god, we need at least one in the group.

We ended up going to his place and chatting for a spell, which was interesting because he had a different perspective on a few things as compared to Chad and me.

The views from his pad didn’t hurt.

The next day, I went to get my COVID booster (finally) and chatted to the girl ahead of me.

Me: Not everyone can pull off a red leather jacket.
Her: Only cool kids can!
Me: Oh, then we have a problem.

I got both the flu and COVID shots in the same arm; zero effects on me as a whole but my arm hurt like the dickens.

Today, I took my first class in the gym after the construction was done. Looked like a million bucks.

Me: Well, that wasn’t cheap but the guy did a killer job.
Him: And the mats feel great too.
Me: Considering how much we spent, they’d better.

Back before my world turned to shit, the weeks between Thanksgiving and New Years were a whirl of parties to meet women and clients.

In a sense, I’m back there again, but mainly to numb the pain of holidays more than anything else.

Got invited to seven parties just this week alone. Went to two of them so far.

One was my law firm, and their annual office holiday party. Even though I’ve not been steadily active with them since Alison got sick, I was touched to still be invited to all the reindeer games.

They ordered porterhouses from Benjamin Steakhouse and I ate most of it, I think.

It was a more interesting party than we had pre-COVID for a number of reasons, including that one of our buddies made partner and we had a slew of new, young attorneys in the office.

Her: Anyone want to go outside for a smoke? This one is covered with gold leaf.
Boss: Well, it is legal…
Me: I, personally, am offended by this suggestion. I will go and supervise.

I’d forgotten was it was like to be a young and optimistic attorney.

Seems like a million years ago.

I’d not met most of them but they’d heard stories of me so it was kinda like they knew me but I just met them. I felt a bit like a celebrity.

But I had to leave early with my boss because I had another party to attend, this time with an old client.

On the way there, a busker was playing With Arms Wide Open by Creed and I thought of my son.

He was on my mind when I got there and looked for my friend when I met this pretty blonde.

Me: Where’s Jen?
Her: Oh, she got wrecked and left early.
Me: Well, you’ll have to keep me company, then. She’s the only person I know here. My name’s Logan.
Her: (laughs) Hi, Logan…

She was 23 (of course) and a huge fan of illicit pharmaceuticals. But loads of fun. That’s all I’ll share for now.

It was late when I got home. Fun Logan and alla that.

I’m still trying to figure out where I belong, if I belong anywhere.

Suppose as long as with the kid, I belong somewhere.

Location: earlier today, talking about the UCC and Kokomo just off Grand Central
Mood: curious
Music: I hope he’s not like me, I hope he understands (Spotify)
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Categories
business personal

Spending it all

Paxibellum is open

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

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

Afterward, I had some unexpectedly deep conversations.

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

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

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

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

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

Evidently, Chad is more Chad too.

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

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

Another investor and his son gave me a lift home.

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

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