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It’s gonna be ok

Suddenly, everything’s different

Him: Another drink?
Me: Thanks, but I can’t. Got an early morning tomorrow.
Him: I thought the kid was away.
Me: He is. I’m in court tomorrow morning.

Sorry for the lack of posts.

Took on some work a little while ago and it all came to a head this past week regarding three court cases; and I’m only a lawyer in one of them. In the other, I wear my other professional hat, and in yet another, I’m the petitioner, representing myself.

Been almost five years since I was last in court.

Submitted my legal memorandum to one client this past Wednesday after working on it for several months. Then, that same day, met up with another client in court downtown and happened to have my own case in the same courtroom with the same judge.

Turns out that there were several errors in my paperwork – not in any of the others. I suppose, when you’re your own lawyer, you’re less exacting.

That’s what I tell myself.

Guessing that the weight of what was going on must have shown on my face. Cause this stern judge admonished me for the errors and then looked at my ashen face and brightened a bit (only a bit) and said, “It’ll be ok, counselor. It’s gonna be ok.”

Then he signed my OSC and suddenly a lot of things were different in my life. And different for the boy. All with the stroke of a pen.

The judge also signed an order for my client, who’s also a good friend of mine. The path of his life just changed along with mine. And we walked out of the courtroom different men than the ones who walked in a few hours earlier.

Buddy: Thanks, I’m not sure I woulda done this if you didn’t help.
Me: Well, I wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t do it, so…same. Thanks.

Afterward, we met up with my buddy Pac…and Mouse, for some Vietnamese food.

Me: (getting up) Can we talk for a sec?
Mouse: (hesitates) OK.
Me: (privately) Thanks for coming. It really means a lot to me.
Her: I didn’t come just for you, they’re my friends too.
Me: I know. (nodding) I’m still glad you came.

Afterward…

Pac: Is lunch on you, Logan?
Me: (thinking) Well, considering the three of you are the only people I consider that I actually mentor, sure.
Him: I was only kidding!
Me: It’s fine. (taking out wallet) I want to do it.

The picture way above is with my buddy from around the way. He’s a writer and he and I talked about the craft. It felt almost normal.

And the drink was in the hotel I once stayed at with Alison when it was called Nylo but it’s now The Arthouse Hotel.

Everything changes around here. Sometimes I hate that. Sometimes, that’s for the best.

Suppose time will tell which is which with this massive change I made in our lives.

Location: home, telling someone that I’m sorry
Mood: hopeful
Music: more than worth it

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Twice as good

Friday Pt. 2

A few weeks ago, I changed all my locks. Here’s a bit of fiction that’s more interesting than, “I just wanted to.”

Me: (walking in) HOLY ____BALLS! What the ____, man!?
Him: (sitting on my couch) Hello, Logan. I was worried about you. You weren’t returning my messages.

We ended up chatting for a bit.

Me: Why do you care so much? Who am I to you?
Him: (laughing) You may be the last honest man in New York.  (thinking) In a city of bulls_____rs, you’re a man of your word. You’re unicorn. Who doesn’t wanna know a unicorn? Especially in my profession. (later) Like you said, rare things are valuable. That’s why.

/fiction

RE Mike, Caligirl, Daisy, and Gradgirl have all called me a unicorn in the past too. I thought that was interesting.

To continue from my last entry, I was supposed to meet up with someone at 1:30AM so I thought I’d take the long walk home when I realized I was in front of Kathy and Ricky’s. It was after midnight but I figured they were good friends.

We ended up having some fine aged rum on their roof.

Me: I’ve never been jealous of anyone. But you, Cappy, and the fellas have what I’ve always wanted, family.
Him: (joking) You were always with one hot women or another. That’s pretty good.
Me: (nodding) It’s pretty good. But it’s not family. (looking away) Family’s the one thing I don’t get. F__k all. (looking at watch) I gotta go.
Him: Can’t stay for another drink?
Me: No. I’ve gotta meet someone.

A little while later, I see another old friend. He was with a young man I’d not met before.

Him: Logan! Meet John.
John: So, you’re the Logan I’ve heard so much about. (smirking) Are you as good as he says you are?
Me: (sitting down) I’m half as good as I wanna be. (sighing) But twice as good as he says I am. Let’s see what you’ve got.

It was late when I get home. For reasons I can’t fully – or don’t wanna – explain, I slept on my couch.

“Slept” is a relative term. The insomnia’s definitely back and it’s not leaving anytime soon.

I feel dull and vicious again but don’t wanna be.

I’m Sleepy Logan again, also – swimming on dry land and hoping not to f__k up the real Logan’s life.

I’ll tell you a story about a dreamer and butterfly one day, but for now, I hope to sleep and dream of the people I love.

Or at least sleep. That’d be nice too.

I just washed all my color clothes with bleach and hot water. This is not good.

I’ll be posting a lot this week cause Sleepy Logan and I’ve been awake and doing stuff.

Lotsa stuff.

Only mildly interesting.

Location: between dusk and dawn
Mood: so goddamn tired
Music: Let the rain fall, I don’t care

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J.B. Penn and wearing the life

Friends and incredibly comfortable pants

Me: I ate too much. Do you have any fat pants for me to wear?
Him: Logan! You don’t go to someone’s house and ask to wear their clothes!
His girlfriend: Ignore him. I’ll get you a pair.
Me: (5 minutes later) God, I’m so comfortable right now.

Went to watch the fights over at a buddy’s place the other day. Think that the past three years, the people I’ve spent the most time with are from my gym.

Initially, it was because they were the only people I saw since I only ever was at my pad, the hospital, or the gym. Unless one of my buddies showed up at one of those places, didn’t see them, even if they were just around the way.

Now, it’s just because they’re part of the landscape of my life these days.

In some sense, I’m a tabula rasa to them. A guy mentioned off-handily, Who knew you were a womanizer? which made me laugh.

Another person was surprised to hear I was a lawyer, let alone gave lectures in front of the Paris Bar and around the world.

Me: Don’t get it twisted, I wasn’t very good.
Him: Is that true?
Me: No. (shaking head) I was excellent.

So much of who I once was is gone. Don’t think of that as a good thing or a bad thing. It’s just a thing, I suppose.

I suspect that to most of the guys at my gym that I’m just this old widower with a kid that hangs out with the Gymgirl, eats everything in sight, and washes his hands like a madman.

You know, I’ve got two closets with about 15 suits, an untold number of shirts and ties that I never wear but I wear the same five or six athletic clothes over-and-over again. Literally never wear anything from my old life.

Which makes sense, I suppose, since I never wear that life anymore either.

I am wearing some incredibly comfortable borrowed pants in this pic below, though. That’s a borrowed dog too.

A dear friend called me recently.

Her: Are you ever free for lunch? There’s some business we could do.
Me: I dunnno, I’m pretty busy with the kid.
Her: XXX is involved. You know how much money he’s made in the past for our guys. There’s a lotta money to be made, Logan. One lunch.
Me: I’d love to see you. But I’m not that guy any more.

This book called Captains Courageous had a character named Penn. Penn was once this fella named Jacob Boller that watched his entire family die before his eyes and his mind snapped. He stopped being Jacob Boller and became Penn, a completely different person – although, every once in a while, Jacob would come out.

Don’t think I’m anywhere near that degree but right now, I’m so different from the person I used to be.

I’ve gone from being this ruthless capitalist husband to being a 1950s house-wife.

It is not I.

And that’s fine with me. So little matters to me anymore. Pretty much just the kid and the Gymgirl.

Me: (dropping plate of food)
Son: (running in) Are you ok?
Me: Yes. (thinking) You know, your momma used to ask why I was always dropping things.
Him: Momma? She’s in Queens.
Me: (shocked, slowly shaking head) No, boy. No she’s not in Queens. She’s…away. But she misses you, that I know. (smiling) Cm’on, I’ll make you another sandwich.
Him: Peanut butter!
Me: But, of course!

Location: earlier today, the park
Mood: twisted
Music: It seems a heavy choice to make
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I’m back. Kinda.

Kindasorta

I’m slowly – slooooooooowly – getting back into work.

Used to lecture on these really arcane areas of the law to get my name out there and meet clients and I was invited to do so again by this great company that I used to lecture for alla the time, Lawline.com.

So the other day, I put on a suit for like the fourth time in three years and took the train downtown.

The receptionist gave me a warm smile.

Her: Hey Logan, long time, no see. How’ve you been?
Me: You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

Gave my lecture and said hello to a buddy of mine that works there before I left.

It was an hour lecture, so for an hour, I didn’t think about the kid, Alison, or my dad. I had a job to do and I did it. It felt good. Weird, but good.

I texted my sister-in-law to see if she was free for a cuppa joe.

Me: Yo! I’m in Wall Street at 61 Broadway. Is that near you at all?
Her: Hiya. Yea I’m not too far. Do you know the Oculus? I can meet you at the winter garden.

The last time I was there, I was with some girl – don’t remember who – driving a beat-up BMW and showing her the World Trade Centers.

What was that? 17, 18 years ago? A lifetime ago, as always.

In any case, met up with my sister-in-law, who bought me a diet coke.

Her: That stuff’s terrible for you.
Me: (shrugging) I like it better than the alternative.

We talked about stuff. Not Alison. Everything else. That was weird too.

Thanked her for the drink and company and made my way back home.

I felt almost as if Alison would be there waiting for me when I got home. Like she was after alla my other lectures. She used to always say the same thing with such joy and love:

Logan’s home!

But she wasn’t home. The kid was out. The Gymgirl was at school. Came home to an empty and completely quiet apartment.

So, as I hung my keys on the key rack, I said to no one, except maybe Harold,

Hey. I’m back. Kinda.

Location: At the Oculus a few days ago
Mood: still injured
Music: And times when you’re all alone all you do is think

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Picking up the pieces we break

Ended up with a completely jacked computer

Asus ET2700 disassembled
Part of the reason I splurged on the new desk because – on the days that I work at home – I spend almost the entire day sitting there.

So if I’m going to spend money on anything, it should be a nice work space.

Similarly, a few years ago, I bought myself a really sweet computer. It was a single piece computer with a touchscreen; essentially, it was like having a 27″ table computer to work on. I loved that thing and it made working that much nicer.

Last week, I decided to upgrade the processor for a slight step up in power. I installed it during the mess of building out my desk and everything else and ended up blowing out my computer.

Complete black screen of death. There seems to be a string of completely destroyed computers in my life.

Meanwhile, I had a portfolio of work due to client so I had to do that on my office computer or my actual 10″ tablet (which is as fun as a root canal) while rushing back to (a) finish building out my home office and (b) trying to salvage my machine.

tl;dr: The furniture is essentially assembled but my computer has given up the ghost. So my physical and digital states are both a mess right now.

I ended up buying a set of parts – essentially, this exact list of components – to build myself a dual-booting Windows/Macintosh system.

This has been a really expensive and tiring few weeks. Hopefully, after I’m done, I’ll be happy I did it.

As always, it’s about making it to the other side.

 

Location: in the midst of computer and furniture parts
Mood: still so tired
Music: in the strangest places, picking up the pieces we break
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Stretches of boredom and high anxiety

Was a busy week last week

Protests in NYC near Rockefeller Center 2014.12.03

It seems that the closer I get to the finish line, the farther away it gets. Thought I’d be done this Wednesday with everything but some new things just cropped up.

Last week, though, was a whirlwind of work. Had to stay later in the office than I wanted to to talk to a new client. Caught the bus home.

At least I started to, but then protestors surrounded us and filled the streets so we couldn’t move. Ended up leaving that bus you see up there and finding another way back to the pad.

Federal Court in Brooklyn

Friday I was in Brooklyn Federal Court. I’m rarely in court and even more rarely in Federal court.

The difference between State Court and Federal Court is like the difference between a burger and prime rib; they’re both good, but one is usually more impressive.

Really got into it with the opposing lawyer.

Him: You said it was noon when in fact it was after noon.
Me: That’s a distinction without a difference. It has zero bearing on the issue at hand. The fact it’s important to you, doesn’t mean it’s actually important.

Oddly, though, he thanked me afterward for being courteous. The way I look at it, I don’t need to be a douchebag if I’m right. And I was right.

If I can sum up court, it would be exactly as described in a blog post on https://kratomystic.com/ that I read last week: long stretches of boredom with periods of high – extremely high – anxiety.

At least I got to break for lunch and have a spinach pie at Siggy’s.

Camden Plaza

The weekend was markedly better.

Saw my brother and also celebrated my friend’s birthday with the wife. Really nice group of people. Had a killer steak (speaking of steaks…) and some top shelf booze.

Him: What did you order?
Me: An old fashioned with rye. (turning to waitress) Make that two.

Have some food pics, of course, but I figure I’ll post that some other time.

Back Room at Tessa, NYC UWS

Birthday Cake

Location: close, so close, to the finish
Mood: anxious
Music: It’s been awhile since I’ve been stylin’ in just my jacket and my jeans

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Focusing on the finish line with Lillian

Finishing up with some work soon

NYC subway door entrance

For those of you that celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope it was a nice one.

Didn’t do much, myself – went home that day to see the fam and came back that day. Trying to get a handle on all this work I have.

I see the finish line, though.

Friday is the last of the largest projects I have with some smaller ones wrapping up in the middle of December.

Been working on this portfolio of stuff for the past five or six weeks. I’m pretty mentally drained.

Being so close, though, seems to make time stretch out longer. I think it’s because I start focusing on the finish line instead of the work itself.

Ever hear of this lady named Lillian Alling?

Seems she came here to NYC from Russia when she was a kid and, in 1927, decided she had enough of the Big Apple – something I wrestle with myself – and the rest of America. So she decided to go home.

But she had no scratch and no means to get there.

Unbelievably, she decided to walk back to Russia. From New York. Her feet were her only carriage.

She walked from NYC to Chicago, then through Canada. The last record of her was in 1929, when she was Nome, Alaska.

Seems she was there trying to get someone to give her a boat ride across the Bering Strait, where I assume we was gonna continue to walk until she got home.

Dunno if she made it.

I do know, however, that she probably made it that far by just focusing on the individual task at hand, which was putting one foot in front of the other.

And not dying, I suppose.

Which brings me back to my tasks at hand. Trying to focus but I just want it to be Christmas already, and my work to be done.

It’s hard to stop staring, once you see it. The finish line.

Wonder if Lillian ever got to see home, or if she died with her feet facing home.

In my head, I like to think she made it home.

Mussels at Arte Cafe in NYC, UWS

On the flip side, my brother’s in town with his new girl and he took me out to eat twice – well, him once and his girl once.

One of the times was Shake Shack. Some of the best burgers on the planet – unfortunately, everyone seems to know that so that’s why I almost never got even though it’s only a few minutes from home.

I really gotta stop thinking of food all the time.

Shake Shack burger and fries in UWS

Location: Jersey
Mood: anxious
Music: My feet is my only carriage, so I’ve got to push on through

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Waiting for the chime that tells me to get back to work

Either insanely busy or not-at-all and little in-between

Her: Do you want some ice cream?
Me: Nah, I’m good. (five minutes later) Actually, that looks pretty good, can I have a few bites of your…
Her: Touch it and I’ll kick you in the face.

Finished up with this massive project last week so I’ve had a bit of downtime again.

With how my work is structured, I’m usually either insanely busy or not at all. There’s scant in-between.

I’m also at a age/position in my work life where I don’t actually have to show up anywhere as long as the work’s done. It’s a plus of being 40, I suppose.

Because of that, it takes me a little while to get used to having time to myself; feel almost guilty that I’m not doing something work related.

But then as I finally get used to downtime, I’ll get an email from a client that goes, Logan! Hey, I have a question for you.

Still, for the next three days at least, my plans are meeting up with a friend for drinks, working on some rapier/dagger fencing, some wrasslin, and a stack of magazines.

All the while, I’m listening for that sound that my computer makes when that email inevitably comes in telling me to get back to work.

!Ding!

Location: my apartment, waiting for it
Mood: rested
Music: Maggie advances to the final. Who knew that she had the goods?
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Our first Christmas tree

Remember the small but personally important things

Sick again. It always happens when I’ve got a million deadlines and zero sleep.

In one week, was midtown, downtown, the Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens, Harlem,  and Spanish Harlem. Was kinda in a daze for mosta it.

Most things are due this Friday so there’s a small chance this may be the only post of the week.

Then again, do my best work under pressure. At least that’s what I tell myself.


We did manage to pick up a tree at – of all place – our local bodega. Also picked up some lights at the local drugstore and soon had our first Xmas tree.

Me: Now it feels like Christmas.

Suppose that’s one of the main reasons I keep writing this blog – and I’m one of the few that still do. Cause it forces me to write down the small but personally significant things.

Especially since I’ve been so drugged out on cough medicine and lack of sleep, it took me a few moments to notice something was wrong when I returned home from a client over the weekend.

Me: Ah, the tree…wait, why’s the tree in the sink?
Her: Long story.

Have said that the time between Thanksgiving and Xmas is my favourite time of year. Am hoping that I’ll be able to enjoy some of it soon.

Off again…

Location: another day, another meeting
Mood: sick
Music: I went to see the doctor. I’d come down with the blues.
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Pushing all that doubt

Rainy day on the UWS in New York City

Her: I’m so excited! The Museum of Math is going to be open soon; it’s right next to The Museum of Sex.
Me: Great! I’m only good at one of those things.

A big part of my eat-what-you-kill life’s writing proposals for certain gigs. Afterwards, ship them off and write more or work while I wait. Usually both.

Back in they day, used to get one outta two back. Then from 2009 to 2011, it was more like one outta four or five would come back. No fun.

In the past three months, sent out maybe 16? About seven came back, which was good but then last week, eight more came in with only one outstanding.

Up to my eyeballs in work.

This has both it’s good points and bad: the good being scratch, which is always welcome; the bad being that all of my projects have to take a backseat.

Have y’ever watched any of those nature shows where this group of impalas’re just grazing in Africa next to a buncha lions? Then all hell breaks loose when the lions go after the impalas?

Regardless of outcome, at some point, the lions are back to chilling and the impalas go back to grazing.

There’s some innate ability of animals to compartmentalize their fear of the hypothetical; at some point, think that humans lost that and I’m no different.

It’s always the same. In my line of work, there’re days when when the seconds drag and days that the hours fly by.

When it’s the former, y’wonder if you should have  taken that cushy job downtown.

It’s not easy, to push all that doubt to the side of your mouth.

Doesn’t matter, got no time to philosophize. Got deadlines.

Location: The NY City Bar
Mood: sick
Music: We brave bee stings and all
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