Posted on

Most New Yorkers

Checking out the Chrysler Building

Attorney-at-my-Office: Logan, this is X. You just caught him just in time because this is his last day here.
Me: Oh my, was it something I said?
Her: (laughs) He’s going to back to law school.

Was in my office the other day just to catch up with some co-workers, but also because I was supposed to have drinks at The Campbell with a young lady.

See, the bar’s just a few blocks from where I work. When I go to the office, that is.

As luck would have it, her office was also a few blocks away.

Me: Where are you again?
Her: The Chrysler Building.

Been here close to half-a-centry but I’ve never been inside the Chrysler Building, which – I think – is probably true of most New Yorkers. In fact, I’ve not been to most touristy things.

Left my office and was just about to turn into Grand Central to meet her when she wrote me to say she was stuck in the office late

Her: Sorry, can you actually just come here? Si por favor?
Me: Yes.
Her: Thank youuuu!

So, just a few minutes later, I exit the elevator on her floor.

I’m guessing she’s pretty good at her job because she had a killer office with some killer views.

She actually pulled out a bottle of white from her office fridge but she also had a shelf fulla fine spirits and one cool looking globe decanter.

Me: What’s in the decanter?
Her: I’m actually not sure. It was a gift from someone. I’m not even sure it’s still good.
Me: I pretty much have a cast-iron stomach so, let’s find out.

I opened it and smelled it – it smelled like some really good quality rum. So, I poured myself a glass and tried it.

Me: God, that is so good.
Her: Really?
Me: Yes, you should try it. (hand her my glass)
Her: Whoa, that is good. Shoot, I don’t even know what brand it is since it’s in a decanter.

She introduced me to one of her co-workers and it was nice and somewhat sweet. It’s been a while since someone introduced me to their co-workers in an almost prideful way.

I stayed for a bit, chatting up with her, and we both lost track of time. It was kinda cool, having most of the office to ourselves, not to mention her own nice slice of it.

But we both had other plans so we had to call it an early evening.

Me: I’m heading cross-town for a birthday party, you?
Her: Uptown. Drag-show with my college friends.
Me: Shame. Maybe we’ll see each other this weekend?
Her: I’m sure we’ll figure something out.

There’s a lot more but this is as good a place as any to stop.

On a different matter entirely, my first short for Scenic Fights was just put up.

Do me a favour and check it out, plus like, subscribe, and comment?

Thanks! Back to the usual nonsense tomorrow.

Location: earlier today, getting smashed at Paxibellum
Mood: coughy…
Music: a new perspective, seeing my reflection from a better point of view (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Posted on

The Mouse that Roared

Punching above our weight classes

My son’s eczema seems to be getting progressively worse and it’s alarming.

I’ve, unfortunately, had a lotta experience in watching someone I care about suffer from it. Watching my son trying to deal with it is just awful.

It was originally just a small patch on his back but now it covers large amounts of his body and he’s always asking me to scratch him.

Him: Stop, stop!
Me: Why?
Him: I have to scratch. (does so) I’m sorry I keep stopping.
Me: (shaking head) Don’t apologize for that. I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable.

I’ve now spent a small fortune on ointments, creams, and bath additions as well reading up on any number of things that are supposed to ameliorate things, with limited effectiveness.

Oddly, oatmeal seems to help matters, at least according to what I’ve been reading and what I know.

So, in addition to giving this kid regular oatmeal baths, which he tends to enjoy save for his annoyance with taking baths in general, I’ve been baking him oatmeal cookies and feeding him bowls of oatmeal like there’s no tomorrow.

The hope is that, once summer arrives, he’ll do much better.

In the meantime, I’m spending waaaay too much time reading up on the matter and feeling for everyone that has to deal with this nonsense.

On an unrelated point, and very separate from the horrors that we’re watching unfold in Ukraine, I’ve been thinking a lot about the novel, The Mouse That Roared.

I last read it when I was in grade school, maybe, so I’m sure I’ll get some of the details wrong, but it’s essentially the satirical story of a tiny nation that decides to start a war with the US in the hopes of losing and having the US rebuild them, stronger and better.

The kicker, however, is that they win and have no idea what to do after they’ve won.

It’s a bit like the Joker’s speech in The Dark Knight where Joker tells Two-Face that he’s just a dog chasing cars.

I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I caught it.

Just like the British were unprepared for America winning the Revolutionary War, the Soviets were beaten by the Finns in WWII – fighting on skis of all things – the Koreans thrashed the Japanese Empire in 1592, and modern America was essentially beaten by Vietnam, I wonder if Ukraine has a chance to not just claw back its original territory from Russia but also regain Crimea and any other regions that Russia annexed.

If I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that it’s difficult to adequately gauge the effects of (a) motivation, (b) home court advantage, and (c) luck on expected outcomes.

Let’s hope the Ukrainians continue to punch (way) above their weight.

And FWIW, I’m pretty sure the Ukrainians can figure out what to do if they do get back what’s rightfully theirs.

On a completely unrelated matter, we finally have a new Scenic Fights video up, this time regarding Atomic Blonde.

Give it a go?

I’m not sure what I’m doing in that still above…

Location: 7PM, the kitchen, making duck confit for a six-year old that wants McDonalds
Mood: irritated that I have to compete against McDonalds
Music: Remedy, running through the red lights (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Posted on

I only have two modes

Getting Old is a Gift

A few weeks ago:

Her: Here. You want some?
Me: No, I’m good, darling.
Her: (laughing) I thought you were a lawyer, not a cop.
Me: It’s not that. I’m only have two modes: Way too much or not at all.

Decades ago, I was in a club called Club USA for work when I was called upstairs to chat with the big mucky-muck.

There was a mirrored platter – maybe it was just a mirror, I don’t remember – with a mountain of cocaine on it. They motioned for me to sit down and the fella that called me upstairs handed me a rolled-up piece of paper.

Me: No, I’m good.
Him: What are you, a cop?
Me: No. I had some earlier and I don’t wanna overdo it.

That was a bald-faced lie, I was just scared.

The clubs were always swimming in drugs but I never took any because I was a club producer not a club consumer. But I was certain I’d be seen as what I thought myself to be: A fake and a poser.

After what seemed to be forever, the main guy looked at me and…

Him: (slowly nodding) Never had one of you say no. It’s good to know your limits, kid. So, what’s your offer?

And that was the start of my twenties in NYC, which were pretty nuts. Too bad I didn’t have a blog back then.

Funny thing is, a fella joined my gym earlier this week and brought up Rain, who did have a blog during that crazy time.

Him: …I was part of all that. Like AsianAvenue.
Me: (laughing) Do you remember Rain?
Him: Wait, you’re Logan from Bachelor Cooking?
Me: That was a lifetime ago, but yeah.

Thought about that because I got an invite to a party thrown by my friends around the way.

Last time, it was me and the Gymgirl at The Time Warner Center. This time, it was me and the kid on an entire floor at the Park Hyatt.

As soon as we walked in, we saw RE Mike and his wife, Maggie.

Her: OMG, that’s your son? He’s so big now! He’s adorable.
Me: It’s good, because I’m required by law to keep him another 11 years.

It was a great night – the kid sang all the songs and danced up a storm – well, until people took note of a little kid singing along to all the current pop songs.

Her: How does he know all these songs?
Me: Heck if I know, he just does.

Then he just wrapped his arms around me and asked to go back the table.

But he spent most of the night with Maggie and all the other women I knew there at the party.

Which is just as well, because I’m worried that he might be developing a gambling habit.

The funny thing is that my buddy from around the way, me, and RE Mike used to head out on the town together and hit up the clubs.

They remember when I met the German Girl at a local dive bar and any number of other random women/outings.

And now we’re having filet mignon and tuna tartare with champagne at the Park Hyatt with a live band, professional dancers, and more entertainment than you can shake a stick at.

Although, it’s good I didn’t bring any sticks to shake.

It’s also good having success models as friends.

Speaking of friends, my friend Sue wrote me recently, noting that she was sad she was getting older.

Me: I get it but I appreciate the luxury of being able to get old at all. As you know, I know too many that don’t have that. So try to be grateful that I can get old at all.
Her: You’re right, that’s something to be thankful for.

Every day is a gift.  And these gifts are even better when they’re with good and old friends.

Me: Thanks for always including us. We so appreciate it.
Her: Of course. We love you both.

And family.

Location: earlier today, at a swimming pool wondering if I should jump in
Mood: grateful
Music: You gotta wake up every morning, see the day as a gift
 (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Posted on

Rosalita

My definition of success

For someone that doesn’t like to be social, lately, I’ve been more social than I intended.

Her: I can stop by with some wine.
Me: I’m not a wine drinker.
Her: But I am. Keep me company.

The gym’s been closed for the past few days to do some construction but on the last day we were open, my buddy Miller and I grabbed a cup of joe afterward.

Me: I think I have PTSD from everything that went down.
Him: (laughing) Dude, you’re the poster child for PTSD.

He told me I should try meditating to try to deal with the insomnia and intrusive thoughts.

It’s hard to quiet my racing mind but I did it because I promised I would, and I always keep my promises.

Besides, it was nice that he cared. Can’t say it was life-changing but I’ll try to keep it up.

Afterward, had dinner with a new friend.

That weekend, met up with a buddy of mine in Chinatown with our kids. We were playing phone tag for a while so it was good we finally got together.

He’s about six-foot-three so his kid, despite being a year younger than mine, was exactly the same height.

Him: What did you expect? You’re not gonna raise a basketball player.
Me: How dare you!

Brought everyone to the same Cantonese BBQ place that Chad and I go to before our Scenic Fights shoots. As always, I thought I ordered too much, but we ended up killing everything.

Him: I’m in contract for a condo on the UES. $3.2 million, plus I gotta cover all the transfer taxes and both attorneys.
Me: Jesus Christ, that’s a lotta scratch. And that was fast too.
Him: (laughing) Been looking for over a decade, figured it was time to just do it. It’s pushing our budget but it had to be done. There are only 80 units in the whole building and they were selling out fast. Oh, they have a pool so you two should come by.
Me: You’ll regret saying that.

Afterward, we brought the kids to get some dessert. It was nice that they got along so well.

We then headed out to see my mom. This is my son running down a hill to see her.

It was sweet.

While he hung out with his cousins, I met up with another buddy of mine who just got a new whip.

Him: I totally overpaid. For what I paid for this, I coulda gotten a BMW last year. Damn supply-chain issues.
Me: Had I known it’d be like this, I woulda kept my ride instead of giving it away.

He was in a mood because his girl’s dad didn’t approve of him because he wasn’t born into wealth, even though he had a great job and loved the dude’s daughter.

I told him about Rosalita (Come Out Tonight) by Bruce Springsteen. The song tells a story about a fella that loves a girl but the family hates him because he’s a musician.

In it, Springsteen sings these, somewhat arrogant but, great lines that go:

I want to be your man
Someday we’ll look back on this and it will all seem funny
But now you’re sad, your mama’s mad
And your papa says he knows that I don’t (have any money)
Whoa, your papa says he knows (that I don’t have any money)
Well, tell him this is his last chance to get his daughter in a fine romance
Because the record company, Rosie, just gave me a big advance.

Me: What can you do but live your best life? Years ago, I uploaded this to YouTube because Alison and I talked about what being a success meant. (played the above video for him) That’s pretty much the only thing I’ve ever uploaded to YouTube prior to Scenic Fights. But that’s my definition right there.
Him: I’m not there yet.
Me: You will be. The best revenge is to have a successful, happy life. With his daughter.

Afterward, he drove me back to the kid and my family, but not before I grabbed Burger King for the kids.

I ordered so much food that they needed four people to put it together.

There’s a lot more to that story but nothing you’d be interested in hearing.

The kid was pooped by the time we went home.

Him: Can we do all that again?
Me: Sure. Be the type of person that people want to hang out with, and you’ll always have people asking you to do just that.
Him: (sleepily) OK, papa.

Location: having coffee and tea overlooking Central Park with Vazquez and Crowley at 3PM on a Tuesday afternoon
Mood: busy
Music: Now, I know your mama, she don’t like me (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Posted on

Whatever, whenever

No dental, but we’re working on it

We had another all-day shoot for Scenic Fights the other day.

Pez showed up at my pad mad early to help watch the kiddo. The morning was an unmitigated disaster because I left TWO of the shirts we needed for the shoot at the gym. So the three of us piled into a cab heading to Paxibellum.

The cabbie forgot to switch on the meter and started cursing.

I was gonna say something but the kid was there so I just handed the driver $15 and he shut up. Then he drove us down to see Chad at a diner local to him.

Me: (to son) What do you want?
Him: Pancakes!
Me: Big surprise there.
Chad: What are you getting, Logan?
Me: (shrugging) Chili, what else?
Chad: For breakfast?! You’re gonna be running to the bathroom.
Me: Nah, I’m a man. (laughing) Seriously, though. I remember my mom telling me as a kid that she thought it was odd that Americans have food that they only eat at certain times. We grew up eating whatever, whenever.

The shoot itself went pretty well. Hopefully, you’ll see the fruits of that coming up later.

We actually got a sponsor so Chad and I shot our first commercial, which you’ll see in the next few months.

Me: We’re selling out! This is everything our forefathers dreamed of!
Him: (laughing) We need to sell out more.
Me: Yeah, we’re not in this for the mental masturbation, man.

Our Punisher breakdown just came out and – in 12 hours – we hit 10,000 views and 320 comments. Not too shabby.

I rarely put up – in fact, I don’t think I ever have – a picture of myself as the main pic but I liked how this one looks so I figured, eh, screw it.

Her: So, what do you do?
Me: Violence, darling.
Her: (laughing) How’s that?
Me: No dental but we’re working on it.

Location: home all day, doing physical therapy
Mood: back-and-forth
Music: My heart is broken and broken and broken and broken (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Posted on

A night on the Virgin Revvel

Alesya Yelisow Alesya Yelisowa

Not the wurst night

RE Mike invited me out to a party on a ship – which is vastly different from a party on a boat – and comped me two extra tix.

I’d always thought that my SIL and Mouse would get along so I invited both of them expecting that one, or both, would demur. Surprisingly, they both said yes and the three of us had a great night.

We were supposed to link up with RE Mike and my buddy from around the way but we only saw them briefly because (a) we got there much earlier than them and (b) there was some scheduling issues.

It was the first time we were hanging out since April of 2019.

But it ended up being fine. We headed first to the restaurant.

Her: We should leave a tip.
Me: It’s all taken care of.
Her: We don’t leave a tip?!
Me: It’s all taken care of. Trust me on this.

Again, I don’t think I ever taken out my wallet a single time for anything that RE Mike’s ever invited me in all these years.

RE Mike and our buddy around the way both showed up to say hi during dinner and they accidentally took my jacket, which led to me hunting them down all night – a harder task when there’s an open bar involved.

Speaking of which, afterward we went to the bar…

…then a club…

…then a show…

…then more bars…

…before ending the night at a diner on the ship.

Her: God, that was the worst sausage ever.
Me: It was definitely the wurst. (no one thought that was funny, but I still entertain myself, no end)

I was thrilled to hang out with both my SIL and Mouse at the same time. It made me think of all my possible pasts – for better or worse – all night.

Told Mouse to be herself that night because of her last entry in her blog.

Always hated when people were cruel to Mouse, although I’m sure she’ll point out that we were cruel to each other.

The last face she makes in the video below is essentially how she looks at me whenever we’re fighting.

Later on at home that night, I had a dream. In it, a woman that I didn’t know called me and told me that an old friend of mine was looking for me.

Me: Why doesn’t he call me himself?
Her: You know him. He said you’d understand and that he needed your help.
Me: (thinking) No, he didn’t.
Her: What do you mean?
Me: Because, he would never say that. Demons in the night know their own.

Location: my childhood home for dinner
Mood: confused
Music: Wasting time and stuck inside a broken dream (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Posted on

Not a great 48 hours of parenting

Winter is here

It’s not been a great 48 hours of parenting around these parts.

The snowstorm – and the lack of scaffolding – meant that I was constantly shoveling and adjusting the boiler so that my tenants didn’t freeze or boil. And ensure that the boiler didn’t explode.

But this was the first snow that the boy and I were sharing together, in a meaningful way, so I wanted to go out and enjoy it with him. Luckily, Cappy and his wife dropped off this great snow outfit for him so we could brave the snow. Once we got to the park, however, I realized that we didn’t have a sled and most/all the other kids did.

Him: Do we have a sled?
Me: I’m sorry, kiddo. I totally forgot to get one.
Him: Oh. (sadly) That’s ok. Maybe you can buy one?
Me: I’ll do that as soon as we get home.

Gotta tell you, that ripped me up. He just sat and stared at all the other kids having fun. And I felt like shit.

Tried my best to keep him happy and made him some hot chocolate when we got back, which he enjoyed. Then I called up every store around me trying to get a sled. They were all sold out. So, I bought one via Amazon but the earliest it would arrive was Saturday.

Him: Will the snow be gone by then?
Me: I’m not sure.
Him: Hopefully not.
Me: Yes. Hopefully not.

It was a pretty sleepless night.

The ABFF, though, randomly called me the next day to tell me that she was going out to the park and that she had an innertube.

So my sitter took him so I could catch up on some work and I went to pick him up after dinner.

Him: I was on a sled for the first time today! It’s so much fun!
Me: I bet it was!

While the kids all played, I caught up with the ABFF and her sister.

ABFF: What’s up with you and Mouse?
Me: That’s a whole story right there.
Her: Well, she’s great. You two should figure something out.

It was late when we finally left.

Him: I wish I could stay there. At home, it’s just you and me.
Me: (coughing) I’m sorry it’s just me.
Him: I wish there was someone else.
Me: Someday, maybe?
Him: (sighing) It’s just the two of us. I wish mommy was here.
Me: This is our stop. Let’s go.

Broke my intermittent fasting when I put the kid down and picked up a drink or three.

Like I said, it’s not been a great 48 hours of parenting around these parts.

I don’t want him to be a sad kid. It’s the last thing Alison woulda wanted. Then again, neither of us wanted any of this.

Location: home
Mood: less than ideal
Music: In life, there is lots of grief (Spotify)

Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Blogarama - Observations Blogs

Posted on

That was REALLY unexpected

Moments of passion

Me: What are you gonna do when I have hot female fans?
Her: What do you mean, “start?”
Me: (laughing) I’ll take the compliment and the one you gave yourself.

In my last entry, I wrote, “By the time you read this entry, I should have 100,000 views on that video,” referring to the video below.

That was five days ago. It was released on September 7, 2019 and I wrote that entry on September 3, 2020, so it took 361 days to hit 100,000 views.

As of today, September 8th, 2020, it hit over half a million – 539,240 views as of this exact moment I’m writing this. That means it somehow got 439,240 additional views in five days.

That’s insane. I honestly don’t have any rhyme or reason for it, but you know me, I’ll take any weekday win I can get.

On a much more mundane note, I spent a good part of Labor Day weekend working but Mouse stayed over for part of it.

I swear my memory is getting worse and worse these days.

Case in point, I tossed a book off the sofa to the floor so she had a place to sit.  No more than 10 minutes later, I asked her if she saw it.

Mouse: It was cast aside in a moment of passion!
Me: What? Really?
Her: No. Are you serious? It’s right there.
Me: Jeez, what is wrong with me?!

While she was here, she asked me for some legal advice, so I gave her my honest opinion.

Her: Oh, you get a kiss for that.
Me: Man, law school was totally worth it.

Actually, we were both pretty busy with work and personal matters but we did manage to head downtown via the Hudson River Greenway again.

Coincidentally, we ended up riding right past Lviv’s place.

Besides that excursion, we didn’t really do much else, although I did cook a ton because she’s been on this new diet for her health.

She’d never seen The Amazing Race so we randomly picked a season and started watching it.

She got really into it, which I expected, since she’s such an adrenaline junkie, which isn’t my thing at all.

I suppose that’s a major reason why we broke up in the first place.

Well, that and things like this conversation.

Her: Whenever I see white suburban moms, I think of you.
Me: I would be offended if that weren’t accurate.

Podcast Version
Location: in front of my computer from dawn to dusk
Mood: busy
Music: I’m such a stalker, a watcher, a psychopath (Spotify)
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Blogarama - Observations Blogs

Posted on

Weapons invite death

A Faustian bargain

Weapons and grappling are two, very different, forms of violence.

The former is binary – I will die and/or sustain grave bodily injury, or you will die and/or sustain grave bodily injury. There’s no middle ground. It’s useful as a force multiplier in situations like multiple attackers or similarly armed assailants.

The latter, however, has an n-ary relationship, whereby I can control the level of lethality from simple control all the way to death. It is my option. As with weapons work, grappling is also a force multiplier but it’s less useful against armed and/or multiple assailants.

When the police are not allowed to use the latter, their only option is the former. This means going from an n-ary relationship to a binary one of life or death/grave bodily injury. Again, there is no middle ground.

This is because weapons invite death. That is the nature of a weapon.

Mr. Floyd’s murder is a horrific one and one where the murderer deserves the most extreme punishment; at best, he showed a depraved heart, at worst, he’s just a piece of shit. But note that Mr. Floyd is dead precisely because of the option of death; the murderer chose to kill a man.

Just like you could kill someone with a fork, a fork serves many other useful purposes beyond murder – in fact, a fork is a sub-optimal means of killing someone, just as grappling is a sub-optimal means of killing someone. A gun or knife does that far more quickly and efficiently.

Note that, the particular movement used by the murderer – knee on neck – is one I’ve never done and would never do. I’ve never seen it done in real life. I’ve never had it done to me. It’s because it’s not the best tool for the job of restraint.

But to throw out the entirety of the latter – pin controls and restraints – means that the only option NYC is giving the police is the former.

This is Faustian bargain on its face; the very people the law Mayor DeBlasio is claiming to help will be the ones that will have to deal with the consequences of the police having less-lethal options to do their job.

Podcast Version
Location: home, waiting for a plumber
Mood: puzzled
Music: I don’t usually give in to peer pressure (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Posted on

Grief can be fatal

The boy’s first picture

If there was a single moment that captured everything about my cleaning out Alison’s closet, it was when I found her Filofax, opened it, and something fluttered out.

For those of you that didn’t know her personally, this was a rarity. Because she was the single most organized and clean person I knew. Nothing fluttered out of anything when she was here because she always put everything away where it belonged.

But what fluttered out was a sonogram of the boy. Our first picture of him.

I remember walking into the room one day and catching her staring at it with a look of such love. Realize now that she musta taken out that sonogram a million times to just stare at her son.

Several friends and acquaintances have recently had babies. While I’m thrilled for them, it reminds me how much we’ve lost.

And I don’t think anyone except a mother could truly understand what must have gone through her mind when she was told she had cancer and would die.

Do you know the very first fucking thing she said to me was? Not about herself or even the cancer. It was,

I won’t see him grow up?

She cried for 24 hours straight after that. I didn’t think a body could cry so much. It was only five days after he was born. Fuck all.

Goddammit. Just typing that hit the pain button full-on and I’m trying not to be a basketcase.

So I put away the photo and try to not think about my most aching possible past.


Just watch the first four minutes. It’s worth it.

I’m putting stuff away cause, unchecked, grief can definitely be fatal. If not for Mouse and the boy, I wouldn’t be here.

In the past 45 days or so, a number of people that have been experiencing grief have reached out to me, exactly as I did to Leigh’s husband when Alison died. And like him, I’ve been trying to help as much as I can.

It’s hard. Cause I gotta dredge up things I’d rather not. But people like Leigh’s husband did that for me so I gotta do my part.

The thing is, you don’t know true grief until you feel it yourself.

And, while I wish you wouldn’t, you will, cause there’s nuthin you love that you won’t lose someday.

If you’re lucky, your grief will only be a small fraction of mine, which – trust me – is a blessing.

In fact one fella I spoke to whose wife died of cancer and left him with two boys told me, “Wow, I wouldn’t think it possible that someone had it worse; but you two’ve had it worse. I’m sorry.”

It’s a shitty achievement we’ve unlocked and one that I wished we didn’t, but, then again, I wish for a lotta things.

In any case, whenever I speak to someone about their grief, I’m reminded of the kid that said that I shoulda moved on after a year. As the video notes, you never move on; you move forward.

Evilly, I used to wish that she’d feel my grief for herself – like I said, I’m not a good person – but I was different then.

Now I just feel pity for her cause she’s just a dumb kid that’s never dealt with it. For better or worse, she will feel it one day, and I don’t think she’s equipped to deal with it.

I barely was. I barely am.

Now, I did promise Alison that I’d be here to take care of her son.

I didn’t mean it then. But I do now. I do. Really. Although there are moments that take your breath away, and not in the good way.

Me: Goodnight, kiddo.
Boy: Mommy’s sick.
Me: What?
Him: She’s sick. She died. She won’t get better.
Me: (dumbstruck)
Him: I love mommy. But she died.
Me: (fuck me) Get some sleep.

As I was writing this, one of the two people I still mentor called me to tell me that he’s worried about cancer with his aunt that raised him.

Man, it really is the emperor of all maladies.

Location: Earlier today, midtown, wishing I had an electric scooter
Mood: thoughtful
Music: in your shirt, the pain it really hurts

Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Blogarama - Observations Blogs