Categories
personal

Jealous all the time, Pt 2

Found my wedding ring

Him: I came across some of your blog entries. It was unexpected.
Me: (nodding) I get that a lot. But we are what we constantly do and I always wrote. You surprised me as well. And I’m not often surprised. Hence, my being here. It seems that we all have our secret lives…and skills.

The Frenchman and his wife are also highly successful in their professional lives, like my friends around the way or the NFL Player.

Him: [My wife] runs the entire division.
Me: God, I wanna marry rich. Send me your rich, hot friends.
Him: (laughs) I might have someone for you.
Me: You should know, [I’m very shallow.]
Him: (laughs again)

There’s something about fighting that makes people struggle and scuffle in all areas of their lives. He’s not the first highly successful, highly dangerous person I’ve met in my life.

He reminded me of an old friend of mine. Quiet, highly educated, well-spoken, and well-dressed, but completely inured to violence.

Completely.

Him: (pointing over to someone at the bar) I know, what it will feel like if that man and I fought. I know how it would end, without knowing anything about him.
Me: If I had to fight you – or any grappler – I’d have to slit your wrists as soon as I could. I can’t allow you to grab me.
Him: (smiles) [You thought this through].
Me: I’ve survived this long by thinking things through.

In any ways, this craziness was a nice respite from the other craziness in my life.

He caught a cab home past midnight. We’d chatted for over four hours. It’s strange talking to my peers again.

Spent so much time talking to people so much younger than me for so long that it was like I was wearing old clothes that – surprisingly – still fit.

Him: I know you have close friends and a support network but if you ever feel down, don’t hesitate to ping me.
Me: I appreciate that, and the company and conversation tonight. These are the questions people of our age ask: Why are we here? And are we leaving the world better off than when we arrived? I don’t know the answer to either but am hopeful, for some reason.

I’m stupid like that.

And I don’t have many close friends on purpose. People are…difficult.


Walked home to my empty apartment, which was sparkling clean because the housekeeper was there earlier.

She found my wedding ring. I’d lost it ages ago but Alison never cared. She knew I was her fella; we were happy with just the other as company.

Friday nights were always our favourite.

It’s funny, the wedding ring never mattered to either of us, just the marriage itself.

Was actually holding it in my hand, thinking about my possible pasts again, when The Frenchman reached out to me earlier that night.

In any case, after I got back, I sat down and poured myself a drink and wished I asked him for his friend’s name that died from the brain cancer to give him a toast.

Instead, I just cheered Alison and my dad and downed it and half the bottle by myself in my empty apartment – the boy was away.

This is after four drinks with The Frenchman.

Woke up the next morning on my couch, still in my clothes. The ring was on the table.

Someone once asked if I was jealous of her bestie that recently had a baby with his wife.

She said it to break my heart but the joke was on her because you can’t break what’s already broken.

It was the strangest question because I thought the answer was obvious.

Of course I am, I said. I’m jealous all the fucking time.

Location: that night, with an empty bottle of rum on the table and an empty me on the couch
Mood: muddle-headed again
Music: I’m your walking disaster, keep on dragging me from self-pity, poor me (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Crashing the party, Pt 1

A walk down my memory

The problem I have with dating is that it’s totally binary for me. Either I don’t date – at all – or I have eight dates in a week. There’s no middle ground.

This is not sustainable.

Her: Where were you?
Me: I left after 20 minutes.
Her: You left?! Who does that?
Me: Me. Being, admittedly, very pretty is no excuse for being rude. And pretty girls are a dime-a-dozen. Lose my number, please? Good luck with life.

On a different note entirely, the boy’s a social animal himself.

We’re not the same, he and I.

I taught myself how to be social, never having friends as a kid. My son, though, he’s a complete natural. But lemme back up a bit first…

We start out the day at a picnic at a playground where I catch a shot of the rainbow you see above.

Then we go to my gym for a quick spell, not much to say there.

Not from that day/night but this is a fun pic.

After the gym, he and I head off to another birthday party for the Surgeon’s kid at Chelsea Piers but it’s a gorgeous day, so we walk.

Ended up walking past the Maritime Hotel, which is where Alison and I had our first real date. I wrote about it here.

I met the girl that lost her fella there as well.

Never told you that she was the coke girl. She was 22 then and dealing with the loss of the man she loved, hence the drugs and alcohol. And me in her life.

Don’t think she’s ever recovered from that loss. But that’s her story, not mine.

I get it now, though.

Me: (staring at the Maritime Hotel) I went on a date with the prettiest girl here.
Him: Mommy?
Me: (nodding) Yeah. Mommy.

He wanted to walk along the Highline so we did. The last time I was there, I was with Alison as well.

But, let’s not go down this route. Alison and loss, that is.

In any case, the Highline was packed. We went about three blocks on it before…

Me: There are too many people here and we’re close. Let’s get off this ride?
Him: OK!

Here’s the thing, I totally messed up the time and arrived at Chelsea Piers two-and-a-half-hours early.

Him: Papa!
Me: (apologetically) I know, I know, I know. My memory is swiss cheese these days.

For any other kid, this woulda been a problem, but not my bright-eyed, bushy tailed kid.

But, it’s getting late and I gotta get off this ride.

I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow.

Location: in my head, the Maritime Hotel
Mood: (still) super annoyed by these goddamn hives
Music: They don’t got a pill for this (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

I wanna live

Life-changing

We had a Scenic Fights shoot a month ago on 9/11 and Pac had to do a throw. But, like I said, that throw went bad and he essentially dropped me straight down on my head.

Even though I landed directly on to the top of my head, because of the speed he was going at, and the height (maybe three feet off the ground), while it hurt like hell, I was ok enough to get up and finish my scenes.

This past Sunday, because Pez was able to watch the kid, I was able to do another shoot but, in hindsight, maybe it woulda been better if I’d not been able to make it.

First of all, I started getting an outbreak of hives. Think it mighta been a friend’s perfume because I remember my throat tightening when I met up with her.

Her: Are you ok?
Me: (coughing) I’ve not been ok for years now.

It’s been a solid week since then and things are about the same if not worse.

Now have a newfound level of respect and empathy for Mouse, who’s been dealing with this kinda stuff her whole life.

Still, I decided to just suck it up and go. The director had me go buy a mock-turtleneck to hide everything.

But that’s not even why the shoot was awful.

Before everything went to hell. I should wear more purple.

See, Pac was supposed to do this joke throw and, during a practice throw, he fully picked me up, at least five feet off the floor.

He misjudged the angle – and the there was some communication issues between him and the director – and he ended up dropping me on my neck onto the crash pad.

Despite there being three inches of normal padding and six inches of the crash pad, because of the force and angle, I legit thought I was gonna be paralyzed.

Haven’t been that terrified about anything since the kid went to the hospital and, of course, Alison before that.

Screamed out in pain and Pac later told me that the entire room went quiet with mouths agape.

Chad: (later) I remember watching that and thinking, We all just watched a man lose his body right now.

Went completely into my head and, for a terrifying 5-10 seconds, could not feel my feet.

Pac later told me that I was babbling that I couldn’t feel my feet but that I was wiggling them the whole time. In hindsight, he thought that was funny.

Him: Of course, at the time, I was horrified.

It took a solid five minutes or so for me to come to my senses. Pac said he immediately came over and put his hands on my chest and neck to make sure I was alive.

Don’t remember that at all.

The entire shoot paused for a solid 45 minutes – which we never do, as we’re usually racing for 10-14 hours straight with a 30 min break for food – so I could get my bearings.

Was pretty cloudy-headed and in intense pain for the rest of the shoot, although I did burst out laughing once I realized that I wasn’t paralyzed.

Only managed to finish two scenes before I had to head home. The rest of the night was ice packs and ibuprofen.

Don’t recall what I said to Pez at all when I saw her later on that night.

Pac felt awful about it, and everyone checked in on me that night and the next day, which was nice.

It was honestly life-changing. In light of what Mouse said to me earlier the previous week, I gave Pac a ring.

Him: Dude, I felt awful for you but I was also feeling sick that I might have crippled you.
Me: Yeah. (thinking) If anything good came out of this, I remember thinking, “I hope I die instead of being crippled for the rest of my life and be a burden to the kid.” But then I realized also that I really, really didn’t want to die.

Reached out to Gradgirl, in a manner of speaking. She’s not contacted me back, dunno if she ever will.

I’m not even sure it’s her getting my messages because we always communicated via this specialized app. It could be someone else entirely getting them or maybe she’s just deleting them as they come in.

But I hope maybe she’ll read one or two and maybe hate me just a little less.

She was a friend when I needed one and I hope I can be one to her, somehow, someday.

It’s funny, I thought a buncha things lying there – mainly the kid, of course.

Shit, he’s gonna be so fucked up.

In my haze, I also remember thinking, Alison’s gonna be so mad at me if I died and left the kid alone.

But I also thought of Mouse and Gradgirl too. Mainly, that I hoped I wouldn’t die with them hating me.

Him: (laughing) So, all thoughts of suicide are gone?
Me: (nodding) So gone, man. I don’t want to die at all. Was thinking that there’s so much I still want to do. With the kid, with a lotta things.
Him: So, you should be thanking me then.
Me: (laughing) I wouldn’t go that far, Pac…

Location: my gym, hoping I’m ok
Mood: itchy, achy, and annoyed
Music: I’m waking up again and I feel half alive (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Two unexpected silent dance parties

He’s in second grade

Think I’ve been to one silent dance party – where people dancing wear headphones to music by a DJ, but spectators generally don’t – in my life up until about a week ago.

Then I went to two within a week or so.

The first was when I went to the biergarten last week, which I didn’t know would be happening but my buddy Katrina did…

…and the second with another friend when we went to get burgers and beers around the way

…and we ended up staying so long that it became yet another outdoor silent dance party – again, I didn’t know that this would be happening at all.

Or, rather, the food took so long that the whole thing became yet another outdoor silent dance party.

Think that’s the coolest thing about living in New York City, though; you can go out for one activity (dinner/drinks) and end up in a completely different activity (dancing/singing) with zero effort.

Check that: The weirdest/coolest thing about the night was that this fella walked up to me and asked, Excuse me, do you have a YouTube channel?

It was actually the second guy in two days to recognize me. I’ll tell you about the first one later.

Pretty flattering, I gotta say.

Her: (after) I think his friends were encouraging him to talk to you.
Me: That’s so funny.
Her: You’re a celebrity!
Me: (laughing) A D-list YouTube celebrity, but yes.

I’ve got a buncha smart devices all over our pad and, when the boy’s here, he generally wakes me up by saying, Papa, good morning! It’s time to wake up.

Well, one day when he was away, I woke up to that same sentence. (!?)

For a moment, I wonder if I’d somehow forgotten that I’d picked him up and leapt out of bed to see if he was in his room. He wasn’t.

It turns out that he figured out how to log into the family account on his tablet and made an announcement. From his grandparents’ home in NJ.

He’s definitely gonna be a handful as he gets older.

In any case, I picked him up for real last week and the pad is noticeably more joyous now.

He just started second grade. Isn’t that a kick in the head?

Him: Papa, good morning! It’s time to wake up.
Me: (groggily) Five more minutes…
Him: That’s what you always say!
Me: Because I always need five more minutes, kid.

Location: this morning, pancake brekkie with my favourite little human
Mood: tired, but oh so happy
Music: You’re my little piece of summertime (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Only one me

Getting it right

Years ago, I had a young blonde in my apartment and we ordered some food. We’re actually still FB friends, which I find sweet, but that’s neither here nor there.

In any case, I gave her the only bowl and utensils I had and I used the plastic stuff the food came with.

Her: Wait, you only have one bowl?
Me: (shrugging) I only have one me.

It was because my ex took everything else and I hadn’t yet gotten around to replacing it all yet.

Fast forward some 14 years later and I’m watching Hawkeye with someone else and we get to this scene:

Me: I said almost that exact same thing years ago!
Her: Really? No…
Me: It’s true. And I have receipts. But, I’ll show them to you some other time.

In some ways, that’s why it’s so odd for me to be a single father – I always either had someone in my life as a romantic partner or I was completely alone.

I never, ever – in a million years – imagined I’d be raising a kid all by my lonesome. It’s that whole imposter syndrome thing.

I’ve had some jaw-dropping success in my life as well as some truly shocking failures.

I hope – more than anything – that I get this one thing right, and it’s part of the former.


Editors note: In that entry above (and here), I’d just come back from Baltimore and my ex, whom I lived with, moved out while I was away and took everything – the bed, the utensils, all the plates and cups…AND the shower curtain.

I still remember sitting in my completely empty apartment and wondering if this was the lowest point of my life.

God, I was so young and dumb back then. I had no idea how much more down life could go.

She left me the couch, the TV, the microwave, a spatula, one cup, one plate, and a handful of random takeout items.

Took a video of it and posted it on a site that long since disappeared – and so did all my videos.

Shame, it was a hilarious video. That whole moment, in hindsight, was hilarious.

I had no idea how much more down life could go before rock-bottom.

Man, still can’t believe she didn’t leave me the shower curtain…


I get a lotta flak for this blog and I often toy with the idea of just stopping. That’s part of why I took a week off not that long ago.

On the one hand, I do wonder who, if anyone, read this. But then something like that Hawkeye scene happens and I’m glad I have it.

Or someone writes me something heartfelt and sweet, like Suz did recently, or someone from my gym class surprises me and tells me that she’s a reader.

Her: Logan, your last blog entry was so good. I thought I was going to cry.
Me: Wait, you read my blog?
Her: (shrugging) Yeah. You write so well.
Me: Oh man, thanks. I was just thinking about stopping…
Her: Don’t. It’s honest. It’s so honest. People like the honesty.

So, I continue to put things out into the aether, and hope that someone gets something from it besides just me.

Location: yesterday, downtown, telling a pretty girl to aim for my head
Mood: so busy
Music: I’m getting older with every memory I make (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Memorial Day Weekend 2: Adventure!

The Basics

The Acrobat came into the city for something and we met up for a quick drink.

Her: What are you looking for, anyway?
Me: The basics. Like…really basic, basic. Someone that wants to just hang out with me and boy that we just wanna hang out with.
Her: (laughing) You want more than that.
Me: Not really. I don’t want to deal with ex-boyfriends, emotional hangups, etc. I just want someone with a good job and/or ambition, a basic – basic – sense of loyalty, kindness, and baseline communication skills.
Her: That’s a lot, Logan.
Me: (sighing) These are the basics, Acrobat. I’m just looking for someone that’s on my side, who’s side I wanna be on too.

The next day, I met with with my college friends out in Long Island, after my mother-in-law dropped off the kid with me.

Him: (sadly) I miss Grandma already.
Me: But I have a surprise for you.
Him: Really? What?
Me: Adventure! Let’s go.

Just 30 minutes later, we were on a train headed pretty deep out there in Central Islip.

My college buddies have been inviting us for years but the timing was never right.

That plus I was mainly trying to drink myself to death for a while, but let’s keep this entry positive.

Still, the timing wasn’t right this time around either but, because of changes in the weather and people getting COVID, we actually made it happen.

After a 77 minute ride, my buddy Gar picked me up in his whip – a gorgeous AMG – and soon, I was surrounded by people I’ve known since I was a teenager.

Me: He’s been reading this joke book to me, recently. For example, what’s brown and sticky?
Him: Oh, no! (thinking) Poop?
Me: Nope, a stick!
Him: (laughing) That’s a good clean joke.

I was there 50% for my friends and 50% the food, which was just killer, and divided into four parts:

The American BBQ part – mainly for the kids, which I didn’t know – with burgers, hot dogs, chips, potato salad, and a crudité platter…

…the seafood part…

…the Korean BBQ part…

…and last, but def not least, the dessert part.

Now, the issue was that, while I assumed there would be a dessert part, I was not apprised that there would be the two other parts so I really ate waay more burgers and hot dogs than I shoulda.

Him: Wait, you didn’t know there was seafood and Korean BBQ coming up? That stuff was for the kids.
Me: Dammit! Well, I do now! It’s fine, I can pack it in.

And I really did.

The thing about my kid is that he’s really starting to eat like me, which is not really a good thing, because he eats in quantity.

Like, a ridonk amount of food for such a little kid.

This time, however, he ate almost nuthin for close to four hours. Why?

Because this was his first experience with a private heated pool where he didn’t have to fight a clock or a million other kids.

So, he went in and stayed in.

In fact, long after all the other kids left the pool, this kid was by himself for two hours in the pool, happily swimming this way and that.

There’s more but this is getting long so I’ll tell you about that later, including the part where he almost drowned.

Twice.

Here’s a song to keep you entertained until then:

Location: taking the Q at 14th to see one lady while thinking of taking it to see another
Mood: happy
Music: can’t start a fire sitting around crying over a broken heart (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Maximum Angles and Old Ghosts

So much for sleep

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

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

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

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

They did it a lot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her: Logan!

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

So much for getting any sleep.


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

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

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

Location: double-masked, waiting for the boy in Union Square
Mood: sicky-sick, send soup
Music: Three months without you, I don’t know what to say next (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Bringing the kiddie gang to Koreatown

Shoehorned

Because I’ve been out so much lately, I decided that I should take the boy out with his friends at least once.

To this end, I invited my SIL and ABFF and her kids to head out to eat Korean food in Koreatown.

Chose Koreatown because (a) I love Korean food and (b) it was kinda the middle point for alla us.

Unfortunately, because we all met up at 6PM, the place was packed so we had a choice: We could either sit upstairs on the fifth floor sans alcohol and be seated immediately or sit on the second floor, get alcohol but wait 45 minutes for a table.

We chose the former. And by “we,” I mean “they.”

Her: You know, you can eat without drinking, Logan.
Me: Tenuous.

It was pretty nice, though. We essentially had most of the floor to ourselves, save for a couple here or there.

The kids were pretty well-behaved, all things considered. Think they found the whole idea of having a BBQ in the middle of a table kinda interesting.

Her: Why don’t you just order for us?
Me: Way ahead of you.

I ended up ordering waaaay too much food. Forgot that half the table was comprised of children so, for the first time ever, I brought some food home.

Her: Wait, there’s more food?
Me: It’s fine.
Son: Papa will eat it. He eats everything.
Me: Thanks?

Afterward, we went to get pastries across the street.

Pac’s mom has a noodle shop – Noona Noodles – on the ground floor there and I was going to stop by to say hello but the whole place, including her restaurant, was a madhouse.

Suppose people are just super jazzed that the pandemic restrictions are easing substantially.

But, back to the story, it turns out they food court we ended up at shoehorned two small karaoke rooms off to the side.

My son heard the music and couldn’t help but go, watch, and sing along.

Me: Can you imagine if you were singing and you looked down and saw a little boy looking at you sing through that window?
Her: That’s hilarious.

Everyone was full and happy at the end.

As for me, I was totally sober, which was the first night in a while where I could say such a thing.

But there’s always tomorrow.

Me: Well, my major issue’s that Trump’s such a pussy.
Purple: Ugh. Why would you use that word? “Pussy.” It’s vulgar and sexist.
Me: (rolling eyes) It’s derived from the word “pusillanimous,” which means “timid” or “weak.” Google it.
Her: (later) It’s not clear. It either comes from that or from the word “pussycat.”
Me: Both of which have nuthin to do with the female anatomy.
Her: See! You knew that’s what people think.
Me: (shrugging) Most people think that we have five senses, they’re wrong.
Her: Wait, what?

Location: this past weekend, spending $60 for 18 dumplings around the way and wondering why
Mood: hungry for dumplings or Korean BBQ
Music: [see above, this song doesn’t exist anywhere but Spotify, which I find hella annoying]
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Love is the eye of the storm

That’s why I asked

It’s been busy lately, for a number of reasons.

Red: I should tell you I’m married.
Me: That would have been useful information to have prior to this.
Her: We have an open relationship.
Me: I’m glad you found your person. Unfortunately, that’s not my bag.
Her:  I’ve never [had someone just say no].
Me: Life is nothing if not unexpected. I’m a terrible person, to be sure. But I don’t fuck with marriage.

Blue: Do you really want to know?
Me: That’s why I asked.
Her: Both my parents died and I was 16. So it was either leave school or be homeless. I made a choice. That’s probably why I’m [so successful now].
Me: That’s called a “Hobson’s Choice,” because you really had no choice at all. And I’m sorry.
Her: Don’t be. You didn’t do anything. And everything worked out.
Me: (shrugging) I’m sorry because I’m human. And some people’s human experience is much worse than others.
Her: I appreciate that, after all you’ve been through, you still have empathy for others.
Me: (laughing) How could I not? 

Green/White: I was married. Twice. Are you sure you want to hear about it?
Me: That’s why I asked.
Her: (shrugging) The first one, I was just a kid and it ended early. But the second one just ended right before the pandemic. He had his own trauma and the deal was that he would go to therapy after we got married.
Me: I assume he didn’t.
Her: (bitterly) No. You can tell I’m still angry about it. Sorry.
Me: Don’t apologize for your genuine emotions. You earned them. So, you’re entitled to them.


White: There wasn’t a straw in my drink.
Me: OK. (thinking) Ah, you think I put something into it.
Her: Well…
Me: (taking a sip of her drink) If I end up passing out because someone – not me – roofied your drink, just make sure I get into a cab toward the upper west side?

Black: It’s like a job. Once or twice a week, I wake up, switch on an app, answer a few dozen stupid/boring questions from a buncha stupid/boring guys, and then go on with my week.
Me: Ah, modern romance. Where do I stack up?
Her: (laughing) Are you sure you want to know?
Me: That’s why I asked.
Her: Charming. Handsome.  But shallow. Unable to commit.
Me: (nodding) Seems accurate.

Me: Well, I don’t mean this sound overly romantic, but if you’ll allow me to be maudlin and sentimental…
Her: Let’s hear it.
Me: (nodding) The universe, all of reality, is a storm. Love is the eye of that storm; the one bit of peace in an otherwise cruel and dispassionate world that doesn’t give a shit if we live or die. We’re born naked and confused, without claws, teeth, or fur. Nothing. We only survived because someone loved us enough to make sure we did. I don’t get why someone would want less than that. It’s like someone turning down a billion dollars. Yet, they throw away love for stupid shit as if it isn’t the most rare and valuable thing in existence. And that, Counselor, is what I want. Something I had once and was taken from me.

Location: Solas, of course
Mood: exhausted
Music: Put your arms ’round my neck, and your heart on my chest (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Cooking vs. Cleaning

A weekend of carbs

Back when I hightailed it to California, my brother noted that he was gonna be here just a few weeks later.

Him: I mean, I’m back in NYC in March, just a couple of weeks from now.
Me: I know. I just have to do some things where you are. Besides, it’ll be good to see you anywho.

He arrived the other day.

Like most of the time when he’s here, that essentially meant days of pizza, since that’s the one thing that’s (clearly) better here than it is there.

Chad, Pac, and I shot another series of Scenic Fights videos this past weekend. We’re trying out some new things with a new format. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it.

Here’s a picture of Chad being an absolute badass…

…and of him being very domestic.

He’ll make some rich, elderly woman quite happy someday.

Shot 11 in the collage above was decidedly un-fun and my fault for having the pad so low.

Anywho, my domestic skills lie in cooking, not cleaning. To this end, I hired the ABFF’s cleaner to help clean up around the house while I baked the kiddo some Peanut Butter Oatmeal cookies.

This was one carb-y weekend, lemme tell ya.

Him: My room’s beautiful! She did such a great job!
Me: Do you think you could keep it clean?
Him: Can’t she just come here every day?
Me: Well, this has backfired.

As for him, I brought him to the Surgeon’s place for an impromptu (adult) birthday party.

Her: What do you think of her? (shows me a picture)
Me: Whoa. She’s gorgeous. What’s wrong with her?
Her: (laughing) Nothing! She’s a dancer.
Me: OK, but looks fade. Is she wealthy? (to the other women sitting at the table) I’m sorry, I’m terribly shallow. (pointing at self) In my defense, these looks aren’t going to last forever. (table laughs)

The kids had their own fun…

It amuses me how many people want to set me up with their friends. They should really read this blog to disabuse them of that notion.

On that note…

Me: You want to fix me up with a White House Fellow? I own a gym, why would you do that to her?
Him: (laughs) You have your moments.
Me: Ah, fun and games. Accurate. That I can provide.

Did manage to meet up with someone for drinks but that’s another story for another time.

The boy and I also managed to meet up with the NFL Player for even more carbs along with some of his other friends.

After this whirlwind weekend, and because it’s Daylight Savings, I took some of Alison’s meds that the cleaning lady found in the fridge.

Nuthing happened so I took a second dose. Long story short, I overslept for the first time in ages.

Him: Daddy, daddy! Wake up! You didn’t hear me?
Me: (groggily) Evidently not. What time is it?
Him: Late! We have to get to school!
Me: Is institutionalized learning really all it’s cracked up to be?
Him: Wake up!
Me: Blargh…

Location: earlier today, thinking WW3 was starting in the UWS
Mood: so tired
Music: Should you try again, should you just give up? (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.