Quiet Little Place

"Abort" say the toilet at A's house. It's an old-fashioned word for WC. Another word is "quiet little place."

That's Our Blacky!

My brother's cat has been disappearing tons. Twelve hours at a time. Not eating. Lots of throwing away of food. This weekend, my brother's girlfriend saw the cat walk up a wooden staircase to an apartment and disappear. She knocked. Have you seen a black cat? she asked. Oh, you mean our Blacky? they said, Yes he's here! What the fuck said K. That's our Otti! Turns out they had adopted him. Last night the lady said she thought a third party must be involved. Because Blacky isn't sleeping there nights, and he's not sleeping at my brother's either. So he must be sleeping somewhere. Ungrateful thing.

Germany

Thunderstorms. Currywurst. Pear Champagne. Schwimmbad. Fashion Don'ts. Cloud Forest. Ancient Ruins. Maultaschen. Pretty horses. The old toilet in the bar I used to work at when I was 16. Tuerschluessel. Abort. A und A. Fokuhilas. Lachanfaelle. Good newspapers. Labello. Lots of cake. And croissants. And wine. And sparkling rosés. Mosquito attacks. Greek food.

Turtles Don't Live Forever

I should be cleaning the turtle cage, so that the other one, the one that lived, doesn't also die like its little buddy. I really thought that turtles, unless they're made into soup in France, live forever.

Sexy Boy

I've been exercising to the point of all-day, every-day nausea and yet not a single pound has been lost. And today is the day before we fly to Germany. And it's also the day before a big party on Saturday where I will meet two of my teenage heartthrobs who look absolutely fantastic (if their Facebook pics don't lie). Bummer.

A Man

A man who lost 140 pounds told me an amazing story along the lines of Girl from Impanema, except she was from Stuttgart. But the story is so good and it's really his intellectual property, because he works in the "industry," ya know. Such a dilemma.

Urine Noir

"L'urinoir" is of course a 1917 masterpiece by Marcel Duchamp. The urine noir I'm talking about is on a humid Tuesday afternoon wiping the piss of the walls from the upstairs bathroom, left behind graciously by the previous homeowners. It's about a dame with good lips and a fat ass on her knees, turning yellow into white. Solve that mystery, Mr. Marlowe!

Piss In This

Good party conversation is telling me about the toilets in Tokyo. Such as that the Park Hyatt Tokyo has one of the most advanced toilets in the world. It has a built-in bidet and you can select the water temperature. The seat is also heated. And I think it has a blow dryer. That's cool. In exchange I told him that among the nouveau riche in China solid gold toilets are popular. He wasn't impressed. Same person, when I said I'd have an acupuncturist come to my house regularly if I had the money, said he'd have 1. A chauffeur and 2. Someone to wash his hair every day, if he had money. He had a Mohawk.

Party Talk

Some people---I don't---master the art of small talk at dinner parties. Good small talk is not:

Hi, good to see you. How have you been?
Good. You?
You know, busy.
Yeah, keepin busy. How's work?
Good. Busy. You?
Yeah, super busy.
Good.
Well, hell, nice to see you man!
You too!
awkward silence...

Good party small talk also isn't:

I cleaned my whole house today.
Really?
Yeah.
Wow. The whole house?
Yeah, the whole house.
Wow.
It needed it.
I bet.
Yeah.
I really need to clean mine, too.
Yeah?
Yeah, I need to find a new cleaning lady.
Yeah, me too.
It's hard.
I know.
It's a bitch.
Tell me about it.
Yeah.
Awkward silence ensues...

Pecsi

Spite. Sprite. Pepsi. Which reminds me that in Argentina and some other Spanish-speaking countries Pepsi has become Peksi or Pecsi, because that's how people have been pronouncing it for ages. I think that's super democratic.

Spite

Dr. S. is so Indian. He kept referring to my Mom as an old woman. My mom is 60 years old and not at all matronly. He is just as presumptuous as other people, despite being a PhD-holding psychiatrist and meditation expert and whatnot. I thought as you evolve toward higher consciousness, you see things more clearly, i.e. with less Avidya, but we are all and remain all human. He assumes, for instance, that A. is offended in his "manhood" if I don't "allow" him to spite my mom a little. Or rather, I said I know that his real reasons for not wanting M. to sleep in my parents room is not concern over M. but to spite my mom. And Dr. S. said it's ok to allow spite some sometimes. To keep A.'s manhood intact.