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LoganLo On (or close to) Schedule |
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Friday, September 05, 2008 | |
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Aether Apologies Location: the basement of my brain again Mood: pensive Music: sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no-one  Her: Why do you always get so mad when I apologize? Me: Cause you should only ever apologize for what you do, not who you are. You should never apologize for being what you are. People used to believe in this thing called aether, which was an unseen gas that was supposed to envelop everything in the universe. No such thing but the literary concept of it still exists. Heartgirl went on a date not that long ago and said the guy immediately apologized for being Indian. That irritated me so much. I'm acutely aware of people apologizing for who they are. And when you put that out into the world, into the aether, it's hard to kill it. The moment you let out a breath of, I'm not good enough because of what I am, or I'm so XXXX, it's so very dangerous. Cause you can never be tall enough, thin enough, smart enough. And you are what you believe you are. It's subtle isn't it? The idea that you're not worthy of your three feet of space in this world. Here's the thing, you gotta be. If you're not, the world'll roll right over you. Then again... Her: I thought you said you weren't broken. Me: Maybe I'm just bruised. Her: That makes me sad. Me: Don't be. It's why I have the rum. PCD's...gone from this blog, per her request. But she said we'd stay in each other's Venn Diagrams. I hope that's true. Cause I could never tell if her eyes were grey or blue and would like to know. I hear Caligirl's laughter my head - wondering for a second if she's right and I'm all just hot breath and lies. I gotta believe I'm not. Gotta. Otherwise, I know the world'll roll right over me. So I gotta believe I'm not. I just gotta. Labels: dialogue, discussion, goodbye, venn diagrams  Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 1 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:02 AM :: |
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Wednesday, September 03, 2008 | |
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Cursing buildings and mountains Location: my childhood bed Mood: beat tired Music: You've been good to me; have i been good to you?  Her: I think everyone has a person. (later) Would it matter? If I ate a shrimp or tried some fishy sushi? I don't think it would. Me: No - because you are who you are and I don't want you to change because of me. Her: I guess I really know that you aren't my person. Sometimes I forget, though. Me: (pause) I hope you find your person. You deserve to find your person. Her: I hope you find yours too. Me: (thinking) You're a good person. Her: I didn't do anything good. Me: (long pause) You wished me well. That's something good. In addition to that very, very sad conversation, also lost my biggest client today, my computer died and either broke my leg or tore my ACL. Crashed at the 'rents and ConEd was doing repairs so I took a cold shower. The moment I was done, got a knock on my door. Him: Hey just wanted to tell you that the gas is back on. Me: (dripping wet) Of course it is. Not a good day. But there's this old saying that it's better to light a candle than curse the darkness. Ended my night with a nice conversation that I'll keep to myself but made things seem a little less dark. Got no candle for you but if you click the music link above, you can get a free download of the song I'm listening to as I write this. Hope y'had a better day than I had. Labels: dating, dialogue, disappointed, pescatarians Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 1 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:03 AM :: |
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Monday, September 01, 2008 | |
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Public Service Announcement Location: 15:00 yest, Port Liberte, NJ Mood: accomplished Music: Oh academia you can't pick me up  Had quite the weekend involving PCD, WM, a pool in Jersey City and copious amounts of charred meat and meat products. But enough about me, let's chat about you. Realized that I've got a lota younger readers - which isn't too hard as I'm ancient. School's about to start so, thought I'd let you know about how I did college. Graduated cum laude from an Ivy League; this is not to brag but to let you know that what I'm about to tell you worked for me and might for you:
Added bonuses
Me: Didyknow that the acceleration of a free falling object under the influence of gravity is 9.8 meters per second, per second? Her: I'm sorry what? Me: Ah, nuthin, just geeking out. But enough about me, let's chat about you....my name's Logan. And you are? Labels: dialogue, discussion, Labor Day Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 3 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 9:19 AM :: |
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Friday, August 29, 2008 | |
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Lukewarm Location: 9ish yest, 23rd and Broadway Mood: excited Music: love me or hate me, it's still an obsession  Me: I'm not that guy - I don't pine after people. CaseyI: "I don't pine?" Logan, darling, your whole blog is one big long pine. Me: OK, I pine a little....wait, what? No it's not! Is it? Her: Have you read it? Onea my favorite quotes is So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth. My pastor just spoke of it. Said the word earnestness in that passage is the Greek word zēlos, from which we get zealous. Funny, right? Earnestness and zeal are related. In other words, honesty and passion are related. I submit that we love sports causea that passion. Champions fight with every fiber in their body for what they want. Step into a ring distracted and you get your block knocked off. And I'm no longer distracted. I know if I'm the button, needle or thread again. It's such a relief. Y'know, Heartgirl once said we'd never get along cause I'm dispassionate about certain people and things. But, I'm only dispassionate when faced with the lukewarm. If you look at the quote, lukewarm is nauseating - even to God. I'm tired of feeling lukewarm about everything. I wanna be hot or cold again. And y'meet so much lukewarm in the big city. The random boring conversations in the random blue nights. Whaddya do? Whodoyaknow? Blah, blah, blah. Man, just keep your lukewarm to yourself. Gimme some hated or love. Some passion, some zeal. Something. Hate me? Then wind up and swing. Want me? Then throw me down. Don't talk me to death. Fall's around the corner and I feel my teeth again. I'm excited. Maybe there is a SING or a girl on the east side missing a heart. Might happen. Give it to me. Gimme some honesty and heat. Knuckle up and swing like y'mean it. C'mon...hit me already. Labels: dating, dialogue, discussion, single life Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 0 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:03 AM :: |
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Wednesday, August 27, 2008 | |
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We know... Location: 22:00 yest, walking down Broadway Mood: still in pain Music: And now I'm never gonna get to sleep  Me: Wait, did I make a pass at you the other night? Her: (thinking) No. Me: (relived) Thank goodness...Her: I know! Meet a pretty German girl Monday night on the way home. Woulda asked for her info but, as I said, I'm distracted. Naja, I say, angenehm...tschüss. Get home, shower and run out the door to meet up with LisaV. We're supposed to go to a church function but she can't get outta work so we meet up at Mooncake Diner. It's packed so we bounce to Excellent Pork Chop House for take out and head back to her place where her roommate's painting. We inhale it all over conversation and a glass table. Surprisingly, it's actually excellent. Head out to meet up with an old friend but we can't coordinate so I swing by Rain's for some scotch. A photoshoot's going on with some models so I take a few pics of them and his new canine friend before taking the long walk home. Tuesday? Tuesday was a whole 'nother story. Too many faces and places in my head. Some I wish would stay away. Some I wish would stay this way. With my luck, the ones I want to stay will go. And the ones I want to go...we know...    Labels: dialogue, long walk home, New York City, NYC, random meetings, writing Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 3 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 8:51 AM :: |
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Monday, August 25, 2008 | |
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Distracted Location: home Mood: in pain Music: Once again I found myself with my friends  Her: Home on a Friday? Want some company? Me: (pause) I'm...I don't think that's a good idea. Stayed in on Friday; just tired and irritated. Saturday morning, saw PCD for brunch. We ended up cooking and I made a frittata. Since she was a pro, I was flattered that she thought it was good. Went off to class and got a beatdown. I'm quite literally COVERED with bruises (do not click if squeamish). Should take up yoga. Or at least something that doesn't involve people stabbing, slashing, kicking, choking, strangling and punching me. Yes. Yoga. Spoke to Heartgirl afterward. She confided in me something and I was a bit touched. We're more alike than she knows. Saturday, LisaV invites me to a house party downtown. It's a literal and figurative sweatbox. An hour in, a girl grabs me and sticks a huge bottle of tequila down my throat and, later, kisses me on the cheek - of course she's 22. Before I leave, another girl leans in and kisses me too. Huh. Must be the tequila. Close out the night with this cool blonde that boxes and threw me a nasty uppercut. Impressive. Note to self: Hang out with LisaV more often. At 2:00, walk LisaV home across the LES. Woulda been terribly romantic if she wasn't seeing someone and I wasn't...so damn distracted. Him: You didn't get anyone's number? Did you even ask? Me: No...I'm very distracted. Him: Dude, you gotta fix that. www.loganlo.com Subscribe!Labels: long walk home, New York City, NYC, single life Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 0 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:05 AM :: |
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Friday, August 22, 2008 | |
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It's Gestalt Location: 20:00 yest, Sido in the UWS Mood: ticked-off Music: hear the clock tick and think of you Had this brilliant plan about a year ago, which was to only date people in my area. For those of you new to dating: terrible idea. Cause you keep running into them. After one of several such run-ins, one girl said after a long silence, Yeah...it's not awkward hanging out with you. Course, some run-ins are very nice. Remember the curly-haired girl? She dropped me a very personal email of condolence regarding my grandmother. Had to stop reading it halfway cause it was so honest. She was always very sweet. Also, a beautiful girl I've not seen in a decade sent me the following: Don't know why, but I'm not worried about you at all. I know very little about you but I know you'll make it again. It's the random bits of kindness that help us through. Speaking of which, yesterday, PCD and I took a walk around town after work. The weather was just perfect. Today, spent the day in a lawyer's office for some litigation I'm a part of. Always impressive to see people that are good at their craft at work. As I write this a friend just dumped his bad day on me. Man! That's like the opposite of a random bit of kindness - it's a random bit of here's my crap, you deal with it. Don't want someone else's bad day - got enough of my own, dontcha think? Luckily, got my good moments too: Me: OUCH! Her: I'm kidding...Me: Good. Her: Yeah, you're a lot older than her. (later) Hey, make a face like the monkey in the video.Me: Why would I do that? Her: Because you're cute and monkeys are cute - it's gestalt!Thought it was a tautology but I think I'm wrong. Eh, it happens. Either way, smart girls're hot. Speaking of which...Heartgirl's back tomorrow.  Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 3 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:03 AM :: |
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Wednesday, August 20, 2008 | |
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Making Time, Killing Time or Spending Time? Location: 22:00 yest, UWS, getting kicked in the legs Mood: mixed up Music: I look around my life tonight and you are gone  Her: I don't wanna be on that list, Logan. That list of girls you run into and it's awkward and strange and then you turn and say, We had a thing and it didn't work out. (pause) And you've quite a list... Been busy and mixed up. Insomnia. Part of it's cause I realized two years ago today, No 6 moved out. And it's like I feel so sorry for the "me of back then" cause he was so hoping to follow through with his beautiful plans. But he's not me. Dunno if that makes sense. I've broken up with more people in the last two weeks than most people date all year. And it's heart-wrenching. I'd much rather be the dumpee than the dumper. Much. Lemme clarify a recent post:
Me: You ok? Her: (sarcastically) Please, Logan. I don't know you enough to care enough. But (pause) it's just, if you weren't going to give me a real shot, why'd you even bother? And don't be so charming. (turning away) It's not right for you to be so ____ charming and not give me a chance. The other part's cause two people that've told me that they were killing time now want to spend time. One can't screw up something that's bound to end, ergo, I can be coldly dispassionate in these matters. But now there's a chance that someone's hoping to spend time with me that I'm hoping to spend time with - so now it matters. Now I can screw it up. Now, I can't be dispassionate. Ergo, insomnia. Labels: dating, dialogue, single life Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 1 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:17 AM :: |
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Monday, August 18, 2008 | |
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Broken and Bendy Location: bed Mood: irritated Music: Now you’re broken and you don’t understand  Him: (joking) No offense Logan, but if I were a hot chick, I'd wanna be with an I-banker or doctor. Why would she pick a guy like you? Me: (laughing) Cause I may be broke, but I'm not broken. About six years ago, a blondie lived in my building. She was broken. Bad job, bad relationships, etc. My roomie and I tried to be nice to her but she took that to mean something else. Before we knew it, we're ducking in and out of our own home. Took about a year, a lotta drama, the sheriffs and the courts to get her out. Fast forward to this past weekend, to this old guy, who coincidentally took the same room as the blondie. He's certain everyone and everything is against him. Tried to be friendly with him with some recent issues with his apartment but drew the line when he turned to his Chinese wife (he's Caucasian) and said, "Talk to him in his native tongue." To which I said, "I'm an American, this is my native tongue" which really bothered him for some reason. Like he was gonna stab me, bothered him. So I bounced. The next day he calls me a queer when the owner and I try to take pics of repairs to his room. Luckily, he's not just old, bitter and crazy, he's also racist and homophobic. Y'know when they say about a whacked out young person, Oh he'll grow outta that? That's not true at all. Young, broken people grow up to be old, broken people. It's like a bullet going on a trajectory, a degree off center from the barrel means yards from the target down the line. As an aside, y'might not think it's much, but I'm realizing that not being broken's a HUGE selling point as a single-guy in NYC. It's better to be an old 6 and not broken than a young 9 and broken - I should know. And as an old guy, a word of advice: don't ever think you can fix a broken person. They gotta fix themselves. It's the only way. All you can do is avoid. On a completely different point, met another gymnast this weekend. No 6, SX, BJE, and PCD, were all of that bendy ilk. Broken is quite uncool. Bendy, however, bendy's quite cool. Labels: dialogue, discussion Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 0 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 8:45 AM :: |
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Friday, August 15, 2008 | |
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Nice work Location: on my couch w a glass of rum Mood: sotted Music: Oh don't you put me on the back burner Her: How many countries are there in the world? Me: How would I know? Her: You're a nerd!Chief Justice Earl Warren once said, I always turn to the sports pages first, which records people’s accomplishments. The front page has nothing but man’s failures. It's funny, all my female friends love sports but I'm not into team sports like football, baseball, basketball, etc. Y'know the guys that were never picked to be on the sports team? Yeah, I was the guy they beat up. But every two years I'm quietly amazed at what people across the world try to do - and manage to do. ---------- Landed a $1.3 million deal this morning. Get a tiny percentage of that, but, if it works, I don't gotta worry about my company bills for 45 days. Assistant: Nice work. Me: Did you just give me a compliment? Her: (shrugging) Eh, don't worry, things will be back to normal soon enough.Her: (rolls eyes) And there you go... She told me to buy a lottery ticket, which I did. Didn't win. S'ok. Met up with Elle for her birthday and then settled in for a quiet night being amazed. These people are incredible. I'm so amazed. Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 1 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:02 AM :: |
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Wednesday, August 13, 2008 | |
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Safe Location: home Mood: indescribable Music: All your grief At last, at last behind you  Dear Grandma; Went home last night because mom wanted to talk. She told me stories I already know but wanted to hear again, mainly because they're so hard to believe. Like how your mom sold you for seven dollars when you were three because she had no money. And that when you heard your mom died three years later, you ran away to change her clothes because you didn't want her to be dressed in rags. I think when I was six, all I wanted in life was more food. I'm 35 now and I still think of food way too much. Well, you remember how fat I was... Mom cried again when she got to the part where you came back and they beat you. She said you didn't deserve such a hard life. No one does. But you were tough. Mom's tough like you. She thinks I get my temper from you, which, by the way, I'm working on. I told her it was probably more from my lack of sleep. Speaking of sleep, I thought of a line that goes: We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. But I digress... I do think that I got my eyes from you. Oh, and Aki and I have this weird talent I think we get from you too; mom says that if you ever saw anyone knit something, you could recreate it. well, Aki can play any song he hears on the piano and I can do something similar with a sword - which is admittedly pretty useless but is good cocktail conversation. Been meaning to say I'm sorry - again. That I broke my promise to you. It keeps me up at night, the regret. It eats me. As does the fact I couldn't go to say goodbye. Yours was the only promise I've broken in years, I think. I had a really good reason - I'll tell you about it some time. Mom says that your funeral was packed - even your real father's entire family came. Because you loved them even though there was no reason for you to. I meet a lot of wealthy people here in the big city but they're all labels and show. I know it's wrong, but I feel it's somehow cosmic justice that you ended up more successful than all of them. You know, mom made the right choice coming here, she really did. The best thing about this corner of the world is that no one ever asks what we come from, only where we're going. But I don't forget what I came from. Who I came from. In fact, I don't forget anything. I guess the main thing is that I wanted you to know that your oldest daughter's safe. You can rest because mom's safe. We're all safe. Really. You would have been 87 today. I pray that you get the grace and mercy in the next life that you didn't get in this one. Happy birthday. L Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 2 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:01 AM :: |
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Monday, August 11, 2008 | |
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Lost Location: 8:12 - arriving at work Mood: confused Music: I never meant the things I did  Me: You're supposed to look before you cross! PCD: (pointing at cross sign) I trust in the system! We watch the Olympic ceremonies on Friday and go for a walk in the park. Saturday, wrestle and get can-opened by a smiling girl. 16 tabs of ibuprofen later, I crash two parties... Her: See that's the problem in NY, everyone is sorta single. Which one're you? Me: (thinking) Hard to say these days. ...almost get into two fights, but don't (not really, anywho)... WM: It's you, man. The same reason why that girl talked to you outside the bar is the same reason why those two guys wanted to fight with you. Me: Howzit me? Him: I'm telling you, y'give off a vibe....hurt some people... Me: Are you crying? Her: No. Me: Are you lying to me?Her: (pause) Yes. ...and go to church with LisaV, before I hit up a rooftop party with WM and Paul. Later, meet up with someone for a late night chat. I should trust in the system. But I'm so lost. I need a sign. Labels: dialogue, single life Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 2 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 9:23 AM :: |
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Friday, August 08, 2008 | |
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The dark clouds are looming Location: 2:00, tossing and turning in bed Mood: le tired Music: When will I know that I really can't go Expletive laden but oh so funny - sorry if it screws with your page. Thanks Kate, I needed the laugh. Him: So I've been asking girls how much it would take for them to pose nude for some tasteful photographs. Seems the going rate's about $25,000. Me: $25,000? I'd drop trou $5,000. Him: Please - you'd do it for this drink here.Me: (standing up and unbuckling) Everyone: Whoa, whoa, whoa, Logan!!Bryson and I spoke the other day. Should note that his wife's beautiful and the chief resident of a local hospital. Him: Whatcha you doing calling my wife!? Me: Crap, you caught us! Him: (laughing) How're you?Me: (pause) I've been better. Him: (later) You're luckier than most people: You're living the single man's dream. You live in Manhattan. And very few people go through life with even a handful of true friends. You're blessed, brother.I know it. God gave me everything. Just working through some things. My mom called me. She said that the funeral hall couldn't fit all the people that showed up for the funeral. Turns out that grandma died of an enlarged heart. Find that strangely fitting. Shut the door to my office and quietly broke down. Saw Heartgirl for dinner in Jersey by the pier cause she's leaving. Was beautiful out but we could see lightning over the city in the distance. Even though she doesn't speak German, I told her, Die dunklen Wolken sind bedrohlich. I'm le tired...  Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 2 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 8:48 AM :: |
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Wednesday, August 06, 2008 | |
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The button, the needle or the thread? Location: 21:00 yest, getting stabbed in the throat Mood: contemplative Music: Walking by myself down avenues that reek of time to kill  I've not been sleeping so I've been reading it. It's weird cause I never read the finished product. It's like I hear her voice and some words of mine in the pages. But it's not bad. I know how the stories all end. Diogenes the Cynic was this whackjob that used to walk around in the daytime with a lamp looking for one honest man. Never found one. Honesty's easy when you got nuthin on the line. Y'find out who's honest and who's honeytounged when you do. Now, even when I don't wanna hear the truth, I wanna hear it. Me: Why do I feel you're not being honest with me? Her: (pause) Because I'm not. I've got to go. (pause) Don't be angry. I wish everything were easier. Man, who doesn't? With the exception of Heartgirl, I never know if I'm making time, killin time or spending time. Can't be a hypocrite, it cuts both ways. Still, never know if I'm the needle, the thread or the button til it's all over. Speaking of Heartgirl, she's going away for a bit. I'll miss her. Interestingly, she may actually have said something nice to me recently. Me: It's not like you like me for my brains. Her: It's why I like you. Me: For the first time ever, I'm confused as to whether or not you're being sarcastic.Man, I wish I knew how my stories end. Labels: dialogue, discussion, single life Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 0 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:43 AM :: |
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Sunday, August 03, 2008 | |
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Waiting for the Right Scene / Hardest way to Travel Location: in front of a glass of rum Mood: sigh Music: Got no place to go but there's a girl waiting for me  PCD: (turning to me) That's not true, I haven't kissed anyone else in a long time. Me: Really? How long? Her: A whole week. Me: (quizzical look) Her: (turning back to TV) When you stop kissing other people so will I.My friend Joanne said once that dating past your 30s is like that board game Scene It. In the first part of the game, if you get something wrong, there's no penalty. In the second part, you're penalized for each wrong answer. She said that dating up to 30 is like the first part and dating past your 30s is like the second part. Spoke to Heartgirl recently. Like HEI, she's become what I'd consider a close friend. Well, as close a friend as I guy like me has. She thinks I'm going about this wrong, the random dating and whatnot. But I've done the serial monogamy thing for 16 years. It doesn't work for me. Without a hint of arrogance, I believe that whomever ends up with me is a lucky girlie. Cause I'm whip-smart. Given lead time to prep and the right jeans, I'm easy on the eyes. Have fairly good manners. Can cook. Most of all, though, I'm loyal. For that girl, I can say, I'm yours. I've gotten it outta my system. 130+ dates later, I'm good to go. I choose you. And yeah, I'm old, weird, clumsy, nerdy, insominatic - the list goes on. No lie, whenever there's money left over for rum after a mortgage payment, it's like Christmas morning. But I know what I bring to the table. SX once asked me what entertainment I'd provide and responded, "I am the entertainment." One should know one's value. Cause if your cup of self worth is only half full, why would anyone else see any more than that, y'know? In other news, the woman I love the most in the world is on a plane to bury the woman she loves most in the world. There's no harder way to travel than with a broken heart. It takes 22 hours to get from here to there. That's a long time to spend with your thoughts. If I could take that cross from her, I would.  Labels: blue sky, dialogue, discussion, family, flying, goodbye, single life, traveling Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 2 comments :: Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:02 AM :: | |
