Tag: Love

The empty longing of a holding pattern. (Apr 12 2026)

JulianLeave a comment

In which Our Hero yearns. 

When a plane doesn’t yet have a safe runway available, the control tower tells the captain to “go around again”. The captain circles and circles, awaiting the change in this external event that will enable the hundreds of passengers to continue on with their lives. No one enjoys a holding pattern. Quite the opposite: it is during these unenjoyable intervals that we find ourselves “killing time”. 

The last few weeks have been versions of this activity. I’ve forwarded key aspects of incredible importance (my eye surgery; Partner’s jaw surgery complications fixing; Partner’s medical malpractice case; apartment renovations; my work). Yet we – Partner and I – are not living the lives we wish. 

We lift weights more days than not. We amble through the most beautiful park in the greatest city in the world. We cook and eat food that we enjoy. We watch Jeopardy over lunch or dinner, shouting out the answers we know (and a roughly equal number that we don’t). 

But still, we wish for more community. 

We moved into this apartment with the intent of living with others. Now, 2.5 months in, renovations have not started. They might not for another month. Then add 4 months for the renovations themselves. And it could be – probably will be – over half a year before we live with roommates we like, hosting weekly dinners and playing board games and shouting out Jeopardy answers with more than just ourselves. 

This period – this holding pattern – weighs on me. 

There’s no point establishing clear patterns and habits and routines when they will all change in a month. No point improving the infrastructure or systems in a home that will literally have different walls. No reason to stabilize on processes of engagement with my roommate (Partner) when we’ll need to live elsewhere for a while and then return to a different home. 

So we set ourselves on a month-long horizon. We establish temporary patterns. We work, and lift weights, and reach out to friends. We enjoy what we can. 

But still, each day, I want more. 

I want what we’re building. I want at least 5 people living here. I want to cook meals with others, to establish a weekly “Come over for dinner on Tuesday!” that invites a half-dozen people. A board game group and a poker group. I miss those activities. I miss them, though I’ve never had them. 

And that weight – the weight of wanting what I don’t have – is a heavy burden

for at least the next month. Or two. Or four. Or six. Or….

Everyone Starts a Stranger (Apr 11 2026)

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In which, new friends.

“And thanks for inviting two strangers into your house,” the six-foot-six south Indian computer scientist/theater double-major said just before leaving. 

Later, Partner and I laughed at this comment. We don’t even think of such an invitation as odd. We didn’t invite strangers into our house. We invited new friends. 

We talk to strangers. It’s a chosen relationship (and future family) policy. We met this pair at a NYC alumni event for my high school on Thursday. The conversation flowed smoothly; they seemed like fun, smart, and pleasant chaps. We exchanged contact information. I input mine with a funny contact photo of myself. Later, he texted me a picture of himself mimicking that photo. 

Today we learned they don’t even know each other very well: they met a few weeks ago and became rock climbing buddies. (How droll: one brought the other to a highschool reunion without even knowing him well!)

We had them over today for lentils and conversation. The night ended with a game of Mario Party. 

The value of talking to strangers cannot be overstated. The humor – to me – of two people meeting two other people and it being *surprising* when one pair invites the other pair over for dinner… prompts a little sadness in me. While I am undoubtedly top few percentile in frequency of meeting strangers and inviting them to events, at least one of those two found the concept foreign. Pleasant, but foreign. Two college grads from last year, have they not socialized in this way? Had I, when I was in college, gone to others’ house for dinner? 

Yes. Or some facsimile. 

I remember my now-fiancée and her then-roommate (and bestfriend) inviting me to their off-campus house for drinks. She texted to ask what my drink of choice was. I replied, “whiskey sour”. I will always remember her stirring the simple syrup on the stove, explaining how it was becoming a super-saturated solution. 

Most of all, I remember the kindness of her acquiring the items to make my favorite drink. That, and her laugh. What a blessing that I may have that laugh with me forever. 

Charades with Cards (Mar 29 2026)

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In which Our Hero reflects on reflecting. 

My family has been playing a card game for the last week.
Every day up til midnight or 1 or 2am.

One element I like: Mainly playing the game; not too much discussion/reflection about the game.
It’s a game where the point is to learn how to communicate intricate information without language.
Language & clear behavioral conventions therefore ruin it.

The topic has come up: what analysis/discussion is desirable, and what is not? 

Here’s my opinion and reasoning: 

The key is the novelty of information: 

  • If someone does not know what a communication means, sharing its meaning is bad.
    • (The game is learning what communication means. Resolving that tension through clear information removes that learning.) 
  • If someone does know what a communication means but made a logical mistake, pointing out this mental flaw is acceptable, but not necessary.
    • (If they know that 3 minus 2 is 1 and 4 minus 3 is 1, but they accidentally make a move that implies 3 minus 2 is 0 while 4 minus 3 is 2, pointing that out after the game doesn’t chip away at the value of the game while it does improve their mechanics.) 

In short, if a statement would be new information to someone, don’t tell them. If it would be old news but they made a mistake, tell them. 

Assumptions: 

  • The game is about what I think the game is about. 
  • One can accurately determine with a high degree of accuracy what others know.
  • Even without others’ advice, each person can improve individually to a degree / with a speed that is satisfying for them 

And a final follow-up: 

  • The game might be even better with no reflecting afterwards.
    • Maybe even the “this person already knows this but just made a mistake” is just too difficult to separate from “this person actually doesn’t know this thing”.
      • (Theory of mind is hard! Something I think that you know may be completely unknown to you… or the way I communicate something to you might change your entire psychological paradigm about the game. If the whole point is the communicative tension, keeping tension might be… …. … good!) 
    • Maybe the game itself being slow to improve is part of what will make it interesting for my family for time to come. (Often we will run into walls where we play a game for a while as a family, then lose interest and move onto another game. If we keep this game minimally-discussed, does that elongate the duration we enjoy it?) 
    • Perhaps the only time to reflect and dissect is therefore when NOT reflecting/dissecting would be intolerable. Like if someone says “I’m not having fun any more because I’m no longer growing. Can you do something to kick me off of my local maximum?” 

This ends JuJu’s analysis of a silly, fun activity. 

A delightful denouement. (Mar 28 2026)

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The end of an enjoyable undertaking

My apartment in Étampes has been a delightful playing ground.
My father arrived 9 days ago,
My sister & beau-frère (brother-in-law) and nibling 6 days ago,
My mother 5 days ago. 

We had.
The best.
Time. 

We’re already talking about doing a weekly trip every year.
A different city?
Rent an AirBnB?
Amsterdam?
New Orleans?
Card games and good food?
Maybe nature… 

They’ve made a great family, my parents have.
Created an excellent culture of everyone getting along.
And when we don’t get along, tolerating.
And when we don’t tolerate, figuring it out. 

It’s not everyone who can pull together a whole disparate family
And all have a nice time over such a long period of time. 

Neutral ground was meaningful.
No habits for anyone.
It’s nice to visit someone in their natural habitat
But a new place is better. 

Perhaps next year I’ll also be the scout-ahead guinea-pig.
I could spend a few days settling in,
Then the family follows. 

Today, I helped my sister’s family to the airport,
drank two boba teas,
ate Paris’ best bahn mi,
and sat in the sun in the park for 3 hours. 

After dinner, we played cards
and are finally calling it an early night. 

It’s nice to have stayed up til 1 or 2 am every night,
because we just want to play one more hand of cards.
Not that the cards matter; 

it’s just nice to be in each other’s company. 

Forging the Foundation (Mar 25 2026)

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Measure twice, cut once. 

15 contractors interviewed, of which: 

  • 4 fired me on the first call when I wouldn’t tell them a budget. 
  • 2 submitted proposals without walkthroughs, of which:
    • One was way too high, with unreasonable structural terms that brought to mind the anger of a jilted lover. 
    • One was nondescript. (I guess that’s what you get when you don’t even do a walkthrough.) 
  • 9 visited for walkthroughs, of which:
    • 1 started as the leader of the pack; I then realized he was making me worry about the wrong things. 
    • 1 wears Carhartt to “dress the part”, but has no actual substance along with this appearance. 
    • 1 mis-estimated the size of my apartment by about 3x after looking at architectural drawings. 
    • 3 never sent proposals (lol!)
    • 1 came in so low as to seem scammy. They also call me every other day, even though I haven’t replied in weeks (lol.) 
    • 2 seemed reasonable, of which:
      • 1 failed to refer me to their recommended architect when I requested (and then stopped talking to me for reasons uncertain, but perhaps that I answered honestly his question “What are you thinking about our proposal?” with “You’re currently second place in my final three”.) 
      • 1 has nailed down scope and is finalizing contract terms.
        • UPDATE THREE HOURS LATER: WE HAVE SIGNED. I HAVE A CONTRACTOR. WOOHOO!!! 

I really don’t think I’m a problem client.
I wouldn’t mind working with me.
I would need to be clear about expectations and boundaries.
I would need to feel comfortable saying, “That’s a no from me, dawg.” 

But I’m not a blocker.
I care about quality and enabling my team to succeed.
And when I say I’ll do something, I do it. 

And in return, the contractor will receive: 

  1. Money. Lots of money.
    1. Incredulous question: How the hell do people buy renovations without negotiating scope or terms? Some of these were shocking:
      1. I saved at least 10% on the total cost by simply saying “this seems high” to a bunch of terms and he came down on them. 
      2. I saved at least 15% by simply saying “What is this thing?” and then saying “We don’t need it” when the price was higher than my value. Recessed shelf in shower for $2100? Nope. Stone step in front of shower for $500? Nope. If it ain’t functional, good chance I don’t want it. 
  2. Referrals. Multiple referrals.
    1. Because I vet my contractors and vendors aggressively, peers take my advice. My sister is about to renovate her apartment. Is she going to spend 5 months going from 15 to 9 to 3 to 1? Or will she trust that my analysis is worthwhile (and even just use my contract structure, which I went back-and-forth with him on four times, lol.) 
  3. Focus and edits and improvements, oh my!
    1. One part of my contractor’s contract had him proposing usurious terms in case of nonpayment. A quick google showed these as 1) non-enforceable, and 2) a criminal violation! Like very illegal!! A totally reasonable person might have let him keep those terms. But I told him how to improve them. And now he’ll probably fix his standard contract. That’s nice. 

My contractor search started in September. Today, it is March 26th. This may be the second biggest personal purchase I ever make (after the home itself). Shouldn’t I do it right? 

Co Op Corruption (Mar 25 2026)

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In which ugh you’re so annoying… … …. 

The property management company emailed me. URGENT, the subject line says. Leak in my line. Two floors down. From my apartment ??? !!! ??? !
They offered tomorrow. What times can I do?
Any time from 10:30am to 5pm.
Okay; the plumber will arrive between 9 and 11am. 

Wait, what?
I offered 10:30am to 5pm. That 6.5 hour span. You can’t just say a different time. 

My tone was clear, direct, and firm. I did not say, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I did not say, “It’s unreasonable behavior like this that makes our apartment building want to fire you… which, by the way, is our third priority for this year.”
I told them no. I offered today instead. I also said that they could send their person tomorrow before 10:30am if he’s okay waiting in the hallway. 

This experience reminds me of the time they replied to my query email with a completely incomplete set of information. You know, the time I asked a very simple, reasonable question about sequencing A or B first, and their answer said, “IT IS VERY IMPORTANT TO…” and then missed the actual meat. Like the sender accidentally deleted the email right before hitting send. 

Or the time they owed me two key fobs to my apartment building and told me they’d deliver them on Wednesday. But Wednesday came and went. So she promised me Monday. But Monday was a blizzard. So definitely this week. Except Friday came: no fobs. So the following Tuesday, when I called, she said, “They’re coming today”. 

Sure. It happened. So I guess that’s a win.
What’s not a win?
The two week delay. 

Shortly after moving in, I asked my building’s superintendent why the management company is so incompetent. He said they take kickbacks from the repair people they send out. 

Dispatch from the building’s shareholder meeting: everyone hates the management company. They orchestrated the fixing of the facade. No feasibility study was done ahead of time and it ended up costing $870k, which everyone was surprised by. $70k of it was the cost of scaffolding alone as the scaffolding was up for TWO YEARS.

Someone else complained that they received a bill from the management company for $300 for a painter they sent out. “They charged me $300 for a four foot painter! He couldn’t even paint nothing because he didn’t bring no ladder and he was four feet tall!”

There were probably 2-3 other complaints, including about dead door lock batteries (leading to inability to open the package room for 6 days), poor heat (they control the computer-controlled thermostat), and egregious fees, all targeted at the management company.

It’s time to fire! 😀

Retourner à France (Mar 19 2026)

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France, je t’aime. 

Je t’aime that the best eye surgeon performing the best eye surgery for my particular eye condition costs only 4700euros.
And that this surgery should get me glasses-free perfect vision until I get cataracts at age 70. (I may also need reading glasses; the surgery has no effect on that.) 

Je t’aime the delight of walking through Paris. Of selecting between a 32 minute subway ride or a 48 minute walk and choosing the walk… twice. 

Je t’aime that the pastry was not super good, but still was better than any pastries I get in The States. 

Je t’aime the sensation of going to a place that Is Mine. It’s My Apartment. I love that experience. It makes me want to acquire more real estate. 

(This apartment is not ownership but a furnished rental. Still, the concept stands: the freezer contains food I want; the bedroom is organized the way I left it; the smell when I enter is precisely the way I recall it.) 

Je t’aime traveling with my father. We both defer to the other’s judgment a bit too much when an improved answer would be expressing more preference, but that’s 1) minimal and 2) completely within my control to improve.

Je t’aime aussi que ma langue n’est pas parfait, mais j’ai parlé successfulment avec le chururgien et je vais demain fixer un date de chirurgie! 

It’s nice when exhausted travel days (I slept only 1.5hrs last night, all in an uncomfortable seat on an airplane) are still absolute delights 🙂 

Childishness (Mar 14 2026)

JulianLeave a comment

In which <blows raspberry!!!> 

Partner sometimes implies I’m childish. 

She does this through cryptic statements like, “You’re very childish.”
I parry these attacks with elegant ripostes, like, “I KNOW YOU ARE BUT WHAT AM I??” 

Today, we took the train from 96th Street to visit a friend.
Partner asked me, “What’s our destination?”
I said, “191st Street”.
Partner said, “THAT NUMBER IS TOO HIGH.” 

I shrugged. 

She therefore began singing, in the appropriate tune: “One hundred ninety-one stops to go; one hundred ninety-one stops! Take one down, pass it around; one hundred ninety stops to go!” 

And then she continued.
And continued. 

When the train arrived at 145th Street, the song arrived at 146. She gleefully accelerated through 146 so she could intersect the station with the song. She was very pleased with herself.

When we disembarked at 191st Street, she had already arrived to 66 in the song.
En route back, she started at 191 and attempted to time the song with the train speed.
For our next trip up to see this friend, she has set the goal of singing all the way from 191 down to zero. 

WHO’S CHILDISH NOW???! 

Banana Diplomacy (Feb 27 2026)

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One of the worst lessons of the past hundred years is the advice, “Don’t talk to strangers.” 

A friend once told me a story. A young woman at a bar in Texas spotted a guy she found attractive. She positioned herself near him. He didn’t approach. His friends left the bar. He left with them. She gathered her friends. Her friends followed his friends to the next bar.
At the next bar, he didn’t approach her. Eventually, his friends left that bar for a third. She and her friends followed.
At this third bar, he approached her. The pair went home together. Happily ever after. 

–

The woman from Mexico City likes very green bananas. Her husband, also 5’3”, also in his mid 60s, likes talking to strangers. She takes the stairs; he takes the elevator. They live in 5C. They’re moving tomorrow. Back to Mexico City, for retirement. 

“5C?” I ask him. “Did you guys do renovations?” 

“How’d you know?” 

“I’m also on the 5 line. 5F. I heard about yours.” (In my building, 5 refers to the vertical line while F refers to the floor. All the 5s have the same basic floor structure.) 

“You wanna see?” 

Raúl walks me around his apartment. The place smells faintly of cat urine. I don’t notice. I grew up with cat urine.
Raúl’s two cats skitter. Raúl says they are confused and afraid, considering the move. I think they can’t get purchase on the hardwood floor. 

Raúl’s ceilings are high. Very high. Like 12 feet.
Mine could be high too, Raúl says. I could expose the oak beams, only because I’m on the top floor. Otherwise the exposure breaks fire code. 

I text my partner, “Come to 5C immediately”. She doesn’t answer. I call. She’s in the shower. Four minutes later, she joins the tour. 

Raúl renovated the apartment around 20 years ago. The pair sold their apartment in Brooklyn 5 days before the housing bubble popped. They moved into this place a day later. Renovations were cheap since all the construction workers were out of work. 

Raúl likes his windows and AC unit. He spent $35,000 on new windows 8 years ago.
He hates his floor-to-ceiling doors. $2,700 per door.
He likes the bold colors and exposed brick.
He hates the darkness. He says I’ll have much better light since I’m on the top floor.
He says that the co-op board is easy: they’ll approve anything that’s up to code. “The guy on 5D put a bathroom above our kitchen! Can you imagine that?” 

They expect to visit New York; they have family here. They’ll let me know, stop by for dinner. 

“Take your time on the renovations,” Raúl advises. “Be sure you eat well.”
“Julian doesn’t eat enough vegetables,” Partner tells him.
“During this next year, you should.” 

—

Ten minutes later, I open my door to head to a show to find Raúl in front of it with another man. “This is my guy Jaime. He does floors, he does windows; anything you need”.
I shake Jaime’s hand. Raúl texts me Jaime’s number. 

— 

Three hours later, Partner and I leave a very green banana outside 5C door with a note: “Thank you for the tour. Have an excellent retirement!” 

–

Shortly before we part ways, Raúl tells me his wife spotted me back in the lobby due to the bunch of very green bananas I was carrying. That’s the way she likes to eat them. Very green bananas can be hard to find. He jokes that she wants to buy one off of me. I offer one but she declines. 

In retrospect, I wonder who befriended whom. 

— 

Three hours later, Partner and I leave a very green banana outside 5C door with a note: “Thank you for the tour. Have an excellent retirement!” 

Pity they’re leaving. But if they weren’t, would we even have met? 
Tomorrow, I will knock on 5D. I want to learn more about this bathroom. 

Haggling in la Niebla de Guerra (Feb 24 2026)

JulianLeave a comment

In which our hero brings a negotiation to a key fight. 

After trying and failing to close my bank account at Wells Fargo, I strutted into the hardware store ready for a fight. 

“Three of the big keys; four of the small. How much?”
The older of the two cashiers replies, “Thees wun ees twenny. Thees wun ees fore.”
$20 is standard, but I know I can get the small for $3.50.
“I’ll give you $70 for all of them.”
“Huh?” The older man asks his younger compatriot.
The younger one says to me, “Set prices, no negotiating”.
“Ok, then just three big ones.”
They discuss my request in Spanish. They assume I don’t speak Spanish. They’re correct. But I do know my numbers. 

The younger fellow cuts the three big keys. When he’s done, the older fellow says, “Udder wun?”
I show him the small key. (I have 8 keys currently on my ring.) He takes it. I say, “I don’t know the price.” He ignores me. I think to myself: “After they’re cut, I have the leverage anyway” and look around the cash register ot see if there’s a fee for credit card. 

The older fellow finishes the small keys and rings it up: $68.99 for the seven keys.
I pull out my phone to pay with tap.
“Ahhh, card?” The older man says.
I suspected he would respond this way. But there’s no sign up-charging me for card usage. 

I pay and he gives me the receipt. I feel like a winner.
Then I look.
$15 each for the big ones.
$4 each for the small. 

Did I school him, saving $7.01 over retail price?
Or did he hoodwink me into thinking the $15 keys are $20 each? 

At home, I tried all three of the big keys. Success.
And then all five of the small keys. Also success.
Wait.
Five?
Did they copy me five keys instead of three?
Ha.

[Note: Last time Partner visited this store, they charged her $30 for a copy of the big key. 

New York City: where everything is made up… but the points definitely matter.]