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LoganLo
On (or close to) Schedule |
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Wednesday, November 05, 2008 |
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44
Location: 9:00 yest, pulling a lever on the UWS Mood: hopeful Music: may your dreams Be realized
Making some major life decisions but I'll fill you in on those later. On an unrelated matter, broke my right pinky. Again.
Guess you've seen Pretty in Pink. But I much preferred the remake, which came out the very next year called Some Kind of Wonderful. Same director, same writer, different cast but same roles.
The writer and director couldn't get the ending they wanted for Pretty in Pink. Ergo, Some Kind of Wonderful. So their got their ending.
In other news, voted today. Got a free cuppa joe and now my hands're shaking like an 80s crack addict. The voting machines were the same grey machines they had in NYC since I was kid - also in the 80s. More things change, the more they stay the same. I worry we got a different cast, but the same roles.
But there is one aspect of this story, however, I particularly like. MLK was murdered seven years before I was born. 44 years ago. Now a black dude is the 44th president - and almost no one I know thinks of him as a black dude. He's just a brilliant, ambitious man. That's something different and good. Hopefully, we'll have the ending we want.
God bless and protect the man and the office. Le Roi est mort, vive le Roi...
YASYCTAI: Be hopeful (1 min/1 pt)
Labels: change, choices, hope, MLK, Obama
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:: Posted by Me @ 12:08 AM ::  
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Monday, September 29, 2008 |
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Accepting it
Location: 20:30 yest, walking home alone Mood: thoughtful Music: People stop and stare. They don't bother me Grey: I'm back in town next month. Do you miss me yet?
Me: Of course. But about that...
---- Me: I wanted to tell you that I had that talk with the other girl and we decided to give it a try. Blue: OK, thanks for letting me know. (pause) I'm surprisingly OK. Me: I knew you would be. ----
Me: So I'm not going to be seeing anyone else, right?
Green: (irritated) Why do you always put it like that: "I'm not going to be seeing anyone else." You're fine if I see other people? Me: (laughing) OK, you're right. We're not going to be seeing anyone else, right? We're actually dating each other and no one else. Her: (pause) Yes. We're not going to be seeing anyone else. Me: OK, Heartgirl. I can do that. Her: You've finally accepted that I'm your SING, huh? Me: (nodding) Yes. ---- Me: I can't do you that favour, brother.
Me: Ah, you found the blog. Sorry about that. But you know why we call you that. YASYCTAI: Read about Stanislav Petrov and thank him for doing the difficult but right thing. It's hard doing the difficult but right thing. (3 mins/1 pt)
Labels: choices, dialogue, single life
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:: Posted by Me @ 12:02 AM ::  
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Wednesday, September 24, 2008 |
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Jbell and something completely different
Location: 2:10, spit please Mood: puzzled Music: I am likely to miss the main event If I stop
Woke up at an ungodly hour to drive all over the city. Still didn't finish what I had to finish. Also went to the dentist today for the first time in four years. Two dentists in 11 years - no cavities.
Her: I am curious as to why two of your teeth on your left side are cracked. Me: Mstpoplererihndedsowen... Her: I'm sorry, what? Me: (taking tube outta mouth) Most people are right handed. So when I get punched in the face, I get banged up on my left side. Her: Does that happen often? Me: More than y'might imagine. Got into a very perplexing conversation with Heartgirl today so I'm distracted yet again. It's onea those things that I need to figure out myself before I write about it.
Breaking with tradition for the second time, HEI has a blog. So readers, please meet: JBell.
She came by for dinner the other night to borrow Syd. We chatted over some rum. It's nice when people stick around your Venn Diagrams no matter how screwy y'are. You can read her take on me if you can figure out which one's me.
On that note, someone's wondered if I'm nicer in this blog than I am in real life, so in addition to Jbell, the girlie from Sunday said she'd write her view of what happened in my last entry - she said she wrote it in my style (yes, she knows about this blog, no I didn't meet her from it). I never considered that I have a style, but I digress:
Me (the girlie): Are you alright? Him (Logan): I'm always alright. He did his fake smile with all the teeth, but the saddest eyes I've ever seen. He's not always alright.
And then the thing happened with George. I didn't scream because screams are not words.
Him: (on phone) Pick him up! Put him back in! Me: You pick him up! I don't want to touch him! Pick him up! Him: (scooping up George in a paper towel) He's dead! Do you think he's dead?! I think he's dead! Me: Put him back in! Put him back in anyway! Then George swam, in a perfect zigzag, to the bottom of the tank. He must have been caught in a current because that was it -- he was just there, on his side on the rocks. But we didn't take him out. The empty tank would be too sad. Logan says there's one more George in there, he just hasn't seen him for a while. I'm not so sure. So we left this George in, just in case.
Logan told me some sad stories, but they're his to tell. I have my own.
The sleeping pills he takes scare me. But so do his sad eyes. He looks like a little boy. His shirt's too big, and his hair's sticking up all over. He's not the womanizer he pretends to be. He's a lightweight when it comes to his rum. He deserves to be happy.
And suicidal George's swimming around like a miracle fish. He's a little banged up on one side, but I think he's ok for now.
YASYCTAI (hers): Convince Logan that covering the fish tank is worth losing the automatic feeder.
YASYCTAI: Get your teeth cleaned. I wanna make out with someone if only cause my teeth feel amazing. (60 mins/2 pts) Labels: choices, dialogue, discussion, george
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:: Posted by Me @ 12:02 AM ::  
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Monday, May 19, 2008 |
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Ships in the night
Location: 7AM yest, stumbling home Mood: hoping Music: Hey Snowflake! What 'cha doin on Arlington Place?
Me: Ships in the night? Her: I'm sorry what?
Me: ( laughing) My mistake...thought you were someone else. Friday, go to a party thrown by Jenny and friends - they hired a bartender and had an open bar. Sweeeeeet. Saturday, spend the day roaming the hood with with HEI. We end up having a wind-tunnel-like lunch at the Boat Basin. She's all sorts of lovely.
Saturday night, go to a friend's b-day party. Meet someone I swear is the Ship In the Night Girlie.
Her: It sounds like it could be me, but I don't remember.
Me: (disappointed) Then it wasn't you.
Her: How do you know it wasn't me? Me: Cause you'd remember a fella like me.
Her: That's awfully egotistical of you. Me: (sighing) Don't mean it to be. But it's true.
She and I hang out with Paul and WM til six in the morning. We finish up the night at a French bistro downtown as the run rises. Lose my phone - ugh. That's a whole entry in itself.
Don't get into bed until 7AM. Wake up a little while later and run in the rain to meet up for a memorial lunch for Mike. His sister gives me an envelope fulla singles; said she wanted me to hand them out to anyone that asked for help cause Mike woulda liked that. Said I would.
Hop off to church where I meet a girl from Holland and end up walking this girl Beth home - she's involved but fun company. Give her the nickel tour before we run into Jenny and some other people 'round the way.
Finally get a few moments to think. Wonder if I'll ever see Ship in the Night Girl again. Stupid isn't it? You see a girl for a moment and she's in your head weeks later?
Her: ( to WM) Your friend's so peculiar. ( to me) You're so peculiar. Maybe I am the Ship in the Night Girl. Me: You're not, but thanks. (taking her hand) We'll be friends, yeah?
Her: Yes. There're numbers I'll never get again in that phone I lost. Seems like more ships pass me in the night than I thought.
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Ran into my friend Christianne tonight too. Here's a story about her or you can just listen to her sing to you now...
Labels: choices, church, mike, New York City, NYC, random meetings, single life
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:: Posted by Me @ 12:15 AM ::  
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Monday, April 07, 2008 |
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He keeps calling
Location: in my shower, thinking Mood: wicked Music: And when you think it's all over, It's not over, it's not over
Met up with some friends for a Spring party. There was a girlie there from Guest House a few months back. My friend was gaming her but I could tell she was vibing me so I discreetly bounced - girlies come and go, good friends are harder to find. He's now with someone else so fast forward to this past weekend.
Her: You're leaving? Again? What're you, a viejo? Me: (kissing her cheek) Very much, pretty lady. Very much.
Was leaving cause I was thinking of ringing SX when I ran into a pair of green eyes.
Her: Abby. Me: Logan. (shaking her hand) Well look at us - we're like ships in the night; you're stepping in, I'm stepping out. We'd have lovely children, you and I, what with my looks and your brains. They'd be a shoe-in for the ivy league. Her: What? ( laughing) Then stay. Me: Can't. Got an appointment to keep. But New York's a small town - ships in the night, yeah?
Her: Yeah. Walking to the subway, flicked on my mobile and dialed a number. I'm sleeping, she said, but we talked until dawn anyway.
Saturday involved more rum, the Token girl (who's moving 'round the way), the bouncers at Solas (who turned me upside down), Paul and a German girl in Zum Schneider (who was entertaining), and a Russian blond (who was awfully handy) on 9th Street.
Sunday night, went to church and sat next to a friend who told me she couldn't make it to my birthday. Then I walked home with Jenny again.
It's Monday. Got 11 days left; the devil's been calling. Afraid I'll have to answer at some point. The devil and God comes when you're on your knees.
Don't wanna be on my knees again. Thankfully, that's where the rum comes in.
Labels: choices, church, New York City, NYC, random meetings, single life
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:: Posted by Me @ 12:24 AM ::  
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Monday, February 04, 2008 |
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None of your business
Location: 5:30 yest, going to bed Mood: sick again Music: Love me or hate me, it's still an obsession.
With nods to Jaerik and my friend who cares way too much.
I figure at least 20 people hate me in this world. One of them is this old hippie that yelled at me in Cooper Union while stumbling home for having my feet up on a public seat. My feet, I said, with a wink and a smile, are probably cleaner than most people's butts.
Ass___, she said. To which I shrugged and said, That's merely your opinion. And why should your opinion matter to me? You didn't even say hello.
Considering that there are 6,641,114,623 people in the world, the fact that 20 hate me, that's pretty good. In fact, I don't have a calculator that can compute such a tiny figure. Try it.
Whatever someone thinks of me is just their opinion. Someone's else's opinion should not control your life - it's a sucker's bet.
Frankly, it's none of my business what people think of me. It's none of your business either.
On a grand scale, wars are fought over opinions. People fly planes into buildings because they have an opinion. Men become stalkers because they have an opinion. Little girls commit suicide because of people's opinions.
On a more personal scale, you'll drive yourself starkers caring what people think of you. I wasted my youth and my 20s tilting at those windmills. In this world, you can only ever change things about yourself.
The rest is just heartache or paper cuts.
In other news, I'm sick again. I'm always getting sick. Dammit.
Labels: choices, discussion, sick
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:: Posted by Me @ 12:02 AM ::  
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