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LoganLo On (or close to) Schedule |
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Tuesday, January 05, 2010 | |
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Technically... Location: a law firm off Grand Central Mood: excited Music: Don't you know that the years will come and go?  Brother: Remember when he says, Now everybody's talking about this new decade - that was 20 years ago. Me: Yeah I remember. Was a freshman in college. Him: (laughing) Well, now it the start of a new decade again. Me: Technically next year's the start of a new decade. Nuthin exciting to tell you about the past week. The lady and I went out for a fine dinner and were in bed by the time the ball dropped. What'd you do for 1999? Don't recall it at all myself. Hafta add that to my lista fuzzy memories. This time however, woke up early the next day to see the rents - they showed the lady picturesa me when I was a fatty-fat-fat. Hadta drop off the car; too expensive to keep a car in the city these days so that was onea the things that hadta go for 2010. Wrestled with a kid that was born the year I went to college. Demolished me, course. Spent the resta the weekend popping ibuprofen. Did manage to have a drink at the Soho Grand. The "00s" are ending and the "10s" re beginning. It's a sobering thought but I'll never see the "00s" again. Him: Technically, every year's the start of a new decade. S'like that Mitch Hedberg joke when a guy says to him, Lemme show you a picture of me when I was younger. And he goes, Technically, every picture of you's a picture of you when you was younger. Today, start working at an office for more scratch. Still eat-what-you-kill but with a better view. Lotsa changes for this new decade. I'm still around, though. See you Thursday. YASYCTAI: Write down whatcha did for 2009. Cause you're gonna forget (10 minutes/1 pt) Labels: dialogue, New Year's Eve 2010, nostalgia, Soho Grand  Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 2 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 10:10 AM :: |
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Tuesday, November 24, 2009 | |
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You will Location: my usual black chair Mood: groggy Music: a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee Me: You mean you watch the whole thing? Y'don't just fast forward to the action? Him: No, I want to hear the plot. Me: Plot?! There's no plot; it's always something like: guy shows up to deliver pizza, girl steps outta the shower, and oh, she has no money to pay him. What to do? What to do? Oh my! I've appeared to drop my towel... Him: (laughing) I still like to see what happens. Me: Y'know what happens - nuthin that ever happens in real life, that's what happens. Grand thespians, they're assuredly not. Been looking at a buncha ebook readers lately for myself. In NYC, the average rent is $30-35 per square foot per year. A bookshelf takes up about a three square feet of space. I would need three for alla the books I got. That's a nine square foot footprint, or $270-$315 a year for rent just to keep my books. Ergo, ebook reader. The issue is that alla the screens're too small. Don't wanna have to get surgery on my eyes to repair them to save $270-$315; that makes no sense. The Kindle DX has a huge screen but no way to zoom; the iRex reader has a huge screen and zoom but's crazy expensive and dim. So, looks like I gotta wait. Hate waiting for the future to come. According to television, we were supposta all get jet cars by now. And television never lies. ---------- Then again - was 20 when those ads in the vid above first came out. Funny thing is that every single onea those things the guy said turned true. In fact, I've done all but threea those things he said. Listen to the voice, know who he is? YASYCTAI: Be hopeful. You'll live longer. And happier. (525,600 minutes /3 pts) www.loganlo.com Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 6 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 8:00 AM :: |
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Tuesday, September 01, 2009 | |
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More Cowboys Location: 16:00 yest, my kitchen floor, scrubbing Mood: concerned Music: Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song  Me: Hey, step outside with me for a sec. Him: Sure. What's up? Me: Just wanted to say thanks. When I was going through my breakup, thoughta what you told me about your divorce. How you came back one day to find an empty house. Was nice knowing that you survived the blow. Him: (grinning) Glad I could help. Me: Y'know, actually hoped it was you she was seeing behind my back. (laughing) Least you're a decent fella, a successful lawyer and not half-bad looking. Him: (laughing) Com'on, I think our ladies're waiting. Now, where were we? A while back, wrote about cowboys. Seems every seven years, you lose more than halfa your friends. The person y'think of as your best friend only has a 30% chance of staying in that role. One guy that made the cut was my buddy Steel; he got hitched in Central Park this past weekend. Appetizers included whole lobsters. That was the appetizer. Need to get invited to more weddings like that. Steel's like alla my good friends. Never really see them; we don't interact much. But he knows that I'm onea the few people in the world he can always count on and vice versa. We're different races but the same people. That's onea the main things about the Jaycee Dugard case makes me ill. Cause in addition to all of the sick things she had to go through - and they were seriously sick - she didn't have her people. She didn't have a family or friends. Real ones, I mean. What a terribly lonely way to go through life. Couldn't sleep causa it. Yet another reason, think I'm blessed - our dumb luck. Speaking of blessed, thanks for the concern but said I was coming back, didn't I? If y'read me, gotta think that there's a good chance you're onea my people too, yeah? Let's face it, this is hardly an interesting blog and I'm not a scantily clad chick. But I suppose you read cause something I say makes sense to you. Ergo, we gotta stick together. Clumsy, geeky, optimistic dreamers're rarer than y'might think in this world.   YASYCTAI: Read about about refeeding syndrome. There's a great example of it in Band of Brothers. People're food for the soul; hope they're careful about easing Jaycee back in. (10 mins/0.5 pts) Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 5 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:01 AM :: |
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Thursday, July 02, 2009 | |
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...blue sea Location: 22:00, yest, scrubbing my cellar Mood: thoughtful Music: there's reason to believe Maybe this year will be better than the last  Just found out an ex had another kid. A boy. And Germany's on my mind again. And other ghosts from my past keep making appearances. Him: You're so naive, Logan. Me: The difference between you and me, is that I think people're inherently bad, but can do great things. You think people're inherently good - but y'like knowing how dirty they can become. Him: (laughing) Alla these Europeans and Americans so pissed off about their white Christian children dying in Iraq and Somalia for brown Muslim babies; they got no problem saving white Muslim babies in Bosnia or Serbia. But man, brown ones? They go nuts. That is, until they can't afford their plasma TVs. Me: Enough... Him: Why? Cause you know I'm right? The saying goes that, the things that piss you off the most (lowers voice) are the things you know, in your heart, are true. There's another saying that goes, it's always a choice Between the Devil and the deep...  YASYCTAI: Have a relaxing fourth of July if you're on my side of the world. Y'should have even if you're not. (48 hours/0.5 pts) Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 3 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:15 AM :: |
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Tuesday, June 30, 2009 | |
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Fading Location: my basement for the past six hours Mood: wet Music: she caused a scene then every head turned  328 Chauncey Street now - not my pic, not my (c) If you've never clicked on my music link before, y'should do it today for something pretty cool per Caffeineguy. ---------- Still cleaning my cellar. Been weeks now. Feel like Sisyphus, cept I got a broom insteada a rock. Stupid broom... Went to a wedding this past weekend. Someone spilled wine all over my suit. White wine, but still. Least the food was good. Speaking of food, while at Columbia U., my fave joints were Ollie's and The Mill. Right now, Ollie's is a chaina Chinese restaurants while The Mill's a Korean restaurant. But fifteen years ago, Ollie's was an Italian joint with a sprinkling of Chinese food cause they had a Chinese chef. Similarly, the Mill was a Spanish joint with a Korean cook. A boy could get some spaghetti and some Chinese dumplings at the former and tortillas and kimchi at the latter. Now they're full-on Chinese and Korean joints. Yeah, there're places like Marco Polo Cafe, with trendy Italian/Chinese fusion but I don't want fusion. I want authentic Italian spaghetti and authentic Chinese dumplings, yeah? Not the same. Point is, alla the stuff I know, I mean I know, keeps fading on me. Jackie Gleason was the first when I was 14. Funny story: did y'know the Honeymooner's wife, Alice, spoke Chinese in real life? She and her sister were raised in China so it was their secret language. One spoke it to the other and the other understood. In a way, that's why the fading bothers me. Cause no one remembers Ollie's when it was knife cool. Or what 328 Chauncy Street means. Or when MJ was still black and did the moonwalk for the first time on Motown 25. Worry that I'm gonna run outta people to tell something to and have them understand. Then I remember that I gotta finish sweeping the cellar and then I forget. YASYCTAI: Alla the shows with the dumb husband and the smart wife started with the Honeymooners. Y'should watch it. (22 mins/0.5 pts) Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 2 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:15 AM :: |
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Thursday, June 04, 2009 | |
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Something to me Location: my new(ish) room Mood: beat Music: been looking so long at these pictures of you  Sorry I've not posted in a while, been hella busy. Moving from one part of my building to another. Thought it'd be easy but it's not cause one collects a great deal of - for lack of a better word - crap in 36 years. Everything has a story to it; some stories I wanna relive, some I'd rather forget. Suppose that's hardly news to anyone. See that pic above? Y'might have seen it before. Love that pic for reasons only I and another person might know. My pastor once said that you don't love a picture causea the paper it's printed on. Y'love a picture for what it represents. And yeah, I try to donate or toss as mucha my stuff as I can. But I got some ratty things that I love, not cause they're worth something, but cause they're worth some thing to me. So when the guy moving in picks something up and says, Hey can you bring the garbage over so I can toss this? I reply, Oh, gimme that, I'll toss it. And slip it into my back pocket to put it away later, safely behind all the other crap I love, not cause it's worth something, but cause it's worth some thing to me.  Last week, went to a genuine ball. Was a fundraiser event for Helen Keller International: $1,500 a plate, auctions going for $50,000. The full nine. Sat at a table of lawyers and next to a pretty blond. $1,500 dinners are wasted on people like me; always think, man, I coulda made that better. Probably not true but it's my head, I get to think what I wanna. Had this cool British auctioneer that was going nuts; made me wanna bid for something. Couldn't though, one trip to Umbria cost like $50K. Managed to get semi-floated in; felt I should contribute something and I did, in my own way. On the way there and back, got caught in the rain. It's all just peaks and valleys, isn't it? So, y'miss me?    YASYCTAI: If something happened and you hadta grab something, what'd it be? (20 mins/2 pts) Labels: ball, nostalgia, usual twirl Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 2 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:15 AM :: |
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Monday, January 12, 2009 | |
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Swept Away Location: my living room Mood: cautious Music: I know exactly how he feels  Me: You'll meet her Friday - don't tell me what you think of her. Him: Don't tell you? Me: No. Cause I think she's amazing and don't wanna hear it any other way. Friday was Paul's B-day so we headed down to our usual joint. Some shots, some rum, some conversation. The usual NYC twirl. Bumped into a curly-haired blond downtown and she said "Excuse you," with a big toothy smile. I smiled back politely but slipped out the door with Heartgirl by 1AM. Her: Your friends are nice. I can see why you're friends with them. That's not always the case. Me: I'm 35. (pause) Got ridda mosta the jerks by now. Spent mosta Saturday and alla Sunday by myself. Me time is always a good time. Chatted with PCD online for a bit. PCD: You're like an imaginary person now. Me: I find that both funny and sad. Why is that? Her: Because we aren't real life friends Me: Because we never see each other? (thinking) I try to see things from Heartgirl's point of view, if there was a guy she liked a lot and saw him regularly, I'd be a little peeved. (pause) She knows I'd never cheat on her. But I also told her that you were kind and good and that kind and good people we should keep around. I do consider us real friends. Her: I know. Just have a fun vacation, ok? ---------- Her: I kind of feel that I...I just got swept up in my own life. How weird is that? To get swept away by your own life? At the party, met a friend that was easing into single life as I was easing out. One minute, I'm 27 and walking outta the Harbor Hotel in Beijing to a waiting car wearing Valentino and a Speedmaster. The next minute, I'm 33 and out both a girlfriend and alla my scratch. Then the next hot minute, I'm here. Telling my secrets to reeds and strangers. And thinking of a girlie I didn't know existed before 4/7/2008.The problem with being half-asleep alla time is that reality and dreams blur. There've been plenty of times I thought something was something, but just turned out to be a lotta nuthin. Kinda wonder if this'll all just turn out to be nuthin at all. Man...that would suck. Me: Yeah, I know what you mean. ---------- Supposed to be the coldest weather here in NYC in 15 years. But I'm leaving this week for sunnier climates and'll, thankfully, miss it. I'll write when I can. YASYCTAI: Get ridda mosta your jerks. Screw em. (time/3 pts) Labels: dialogue, hope, insomnia, nostalgia, usual twirl Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 3 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:01 AM :: |
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Friday, December 19, 2008 | |
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Potential Location: On a corduroy couch Mood: sick Music: Maybe I'll sleep when I am dead But now it's like the night is taking sides  Her: Algebra - pretty much any math. Me: I'm a terrible Asian; math was never a fun class for me. Mine were English and history. Some science was cool too - like when we dissected owl pellets. (pause) Did you ever have a trapper keeper? Her: Yes. Me: (thinking) Man, they sucked. Didn't trap or keep a damn thing. Think I'm sick. Not sure. But quite possibly. It's been a really productive week. Trying to wrap up business issues before the end of the year. For what seems to be the third year in a row, I've not been able to really enjoy my favorite time of year; from the day before Thanksgiving to the day after New Year's. Wish I were clearheaded. Always cloudy cause I'm sick, I'm beat, or I'm bending time. Sometimes all three at once. Then my mind wanders. Me: What if I'm not smart at all? What if I just remember things - stupid things. Things that're only good for games shows and cocktail conversations? Smart people don't get their life savings stolen. My brother and sister're smart - I joke a lot that I get by on my charm. (pause) But what if that's true? Her: (thinking) I think you're smart. At least 50% of the time I don't sleep, lie awake wondering. Everyone thinks I've got all this potential. But it's almost 2009. I'm another year closer to getting my ticket punched.When I don't sleep, lie awake wondering about things that I'm afraid to put out in the aether. YASYCTAI: Read a novel. A good one. (eight days/2 pts) Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 4 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:16 AM :: |
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Friday, October 24, 2008 | |
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Glory Days Location: my parent's living room Mood: nostalgic Music: hope when I get old I don't sit around thinking about it  Inigo Montoya: I admit it, you are better than I am. Man in Black: Then why are you smiling? Inigo Montoya: Because I know something you don't know. When you get beat up as often as I did as a kid, you either get all decked out in black and go Columbine, or you just learn how to fight. And for those of you that know me, never do anything half-assed. Bryson's one of my best friends and was a striker like me. He outweighed me by 20-40 pounds but I was fast and flexible. We were always toe-to-toe. Until he started grappling. So I started too. Then, a little after 9/11, I got injured. A kimura gone horribly wrong. Doc said I could either get surgery and lose 10% of my range of motion or rehab it and lose as little as 2%. Chose the latter. He said it'd take up to four years. It took seven. Stopped watching NHB stuff cause it made me sad. Didn't wanna be one of those guys that spent his time talking about his glory days. During those seven years, Bryson worked to the point that he's a Pan-American Bronze Medalist. And he knew something his opponents didn't - that as good as he was on the ground, he was even better on his feet. I knew that. My jaw knew that. Me? I stopped. Got fat. Settled down with a girlie. The only place I'm still better than Bryson's with a sword. But even then, he's almost my match. We both know he's better than me, he's just too polite to ever say it. Some days, forget that I'm 35. Then my body reminds me. The last time I felt good about my right lead was in the mid-90s. We spoke recently and he told me that he just got a similar injury. He finds out next week if he can roll again. I understood. Told him that he got seven years on me and he agreed. Small comfort, I know. After we got off the phone, sat back and remembered when we weren't old men. Instead, we're in the muddy backyard of my college house. He'd swing on by, we'd laugh. Then we'd kunckle up and roll. Man in Black: And what is that? Inigo Montoya: I...am not left-handed. YASYCTAI: Look up an old friend. Cyberstalking's easy with Facebook et al (10 mins/1 pt) Labels: disappointed, discussion, nostalgia, story Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 3 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:20 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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Friday, May 09, 2008 | |
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Elsewho Location: 19:00 yest, Malachy's with Heidi and Buckley Mood: sotted Music: I used to go out to parties and stand around Rain: Can I borrow your phone? Me: (absentmindedly) Sure. Rain: Here you go.Me: Thanks. Hey - what'd you do? Rain: Nuthin! So paranoid...I'm in a 300 year old building in Passau that's been converted to apartments. The ceilings are high with wooden floors and painted on the entire far wall is a pop art portrait of a blond girl crying. Honey and Katherine are there. We'd just gotten back from Vienna. A woman I love is there too. She whispers her nonsense word into my ear and I whisper mine back. We're having an early dinner of pasta when Marvin Gaye comes on. Honey shrieks, and jumps onto the table to dance when my girl pulls me up and says, "You too" as I laugh and follow. She smiles, turns back to me and says - (phone alarm rings, it's 5:15AM in NYC) Me: (sit up and look groggily at phone) Dammit Rain...dammit... Fall back into bed and plot revenge against Rain. Sigh. Toss off covers. Flip on Ghosts of Goodbye and start doing situps as ghosts fade away. Eins, zwei, drei...  Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 0 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:03 AM :: |
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Wednesday, March 19, 2008 | |
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Remembering Snow Angels and Lynda Location: 10:00 PM, yest, fencing in Manhattan Mood: contemplative Music: and I say goodbye na zai jian  Paul used to have a B-Team of friends that were fun but he learned that you should only have an A-Team because you only got so much time and energy. Remember when I said that your friends are mirrors to yourself? If you've changed and your friends haven't, maybe it's time to start cutting. Or call the ones that matter. I shoulda called Stewart. Had his digits - just never got around to it. He was a good guy. Probably won't remember me now. But I remember him. ---------- Thomas Mann once said that A man’s dying is more the survivors’ affair than his own. Lynda was murdered ten years ago by a guy in my college circle of friends. My friends who knew her well never talk about it but it's always there. She and I only met a few times so it was more consoling my friends than anything else. But I did want to write something - if only to confirm that what the reporter wrote was true. She was beautiful. Yeah, call your friends that matter. Labels: goodbye, Lynda Hong, nostalgia, Snow Angels, Stewart O'Nan Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 1 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:09 AM :: |
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Tuesday, January 15, 2008 | |
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Postcards and Peanut Butter Location: 9:00 yest, the subway platform, waiting Mood: yep, still sick Music: I'll get over you, I know I will  I think Life's talking to me again. The Grey-Eyed Girl and Berlingirl told me I should listen. I'm trying. I blog less these days so it doesn't become a daily bitch-fest (Let's see what minor disaster befell Logan today). From 1994 to 2001, I pretty much disappeared. I made a sick amount of money, worked out constantly, traveled everywhere and wrote like you couldn't believe - like Ted Kaczynski on crack. Somewhere between page 1 and 972, I squeezed in law school, a fairly successful nightclub business, a few published works and 3.5 relationships. Through it all, my family was there, but I expected that. But I was a bit surprised that my friends always were too. There's this old joke that you have friends because you can't pick your family. I can see that. I bring this all up because some college buddies called me outta blue last week to check up on me. Bryson also stopped by last night to buy me dinner. And The Laura, Betts, someone that doesn't want to be mentioned and Daiseefut all recently sent me postcards. Plus, my church was talking about Job again, the 'rents are strangely insightful and I'm having these deep philosophical discussions in the weirdest joints. Odder still, two people I've not seen in at least 14 years randomly reached out to me; one today when I was eating my dinner of peanut butter outta the jar with a metal spoon. I was so surprised, I dropped the spoon. So yeah, I think Life's telling me something and, like I said, I'm trying to listen. I'm trying awfully hard. Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 5 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:04 AM :: |
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Thursday, January 03, 2008 | |
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Sue and the King Location: 14:00 yest, being poked on 33rd & Lex Mood: stressed Music: its bad in December When they play those Christmas songs By the time you read this, I should be about here. An ex popped into my head today on the drive home. She's happily living in London with her new fella. I told her two summers ago that I would take a picture of my place and send it to her since it changed so much and she couldn't picture it. I never got around to it. I always think of her around this time because we traveled together for the holidays. She and I got along great but it just wasn't right. I really should take that pic of my apartment and email it to her but I never do. It's kinda nice at times when people pop into your head for no reason - like they stopped by for a cup of tea or something. Me: Stay, stay...just for a bit. I have Earl Grey and something sweet. Her: OK, just for a bit. I miss her; not so much the romance part but the friend part. I think that's what I always miss with every ex. This song makes me laugh but the King was right, few things are as good as Susan when she tried. Labels: Elvis, ex-girlfriend, nostalgia, the king Subscribe!Permanent Link :: 0 comments ::
Links to this post :: Posted by Me @ 12:14 AM :: |
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| Don't you have better things to do than read ridiculous small print from some writer? Oh yeah, © 2006 Logan Lo, LLC. All rights reserved. |
