bike tour-critical mass, i don’t usually go but i did this time and i loved it-clarinet-shostakovic-shopping-books-cds-pressies-almost birthday-swimming pool
thinner
invites-music- wine-beer-raw chicken-raw fish-food-train station-railtracks-drums
a new font
I have a friend whose bedroom used to be right in front of the S-Bahn, and whenever the S-Bahn went by, the whole room would light up. His apartment was right above a cafè, more or less lost in time but surely in Berlin.
I have a friend who feels a sense of death whenever he travels. I think I know what he means, that’s what I feel when I spend too much time at the beach or when I see sugar almonds or whenever it’s Sunday. It’s normal.
I have a friend whose eyes are the same color as her hair and as her coat. She knows some delicious mozzarella recipes and she used to live in a house on a lake. The house had talking bathrooms, which means that three or four people could pee at the same time while having a conversation.
I have a friend who gets younger every year. She’s turning eighteen for the second time this year and next year she’ll be a minor.
I have a friend who loves Nivea so much that she uses it for everything, even as ink, as toothpaste, as clothes and as olive oil.
I have a friend whose monkeylike dog opens doors and windows and locks and safes and is about to win the Nobel Prize. Her other dog moved out voluntarily and is now living in the neighbor’s garden and isn’t willing to come back.
I have a friend who likes to have biscuits dipped in water for breakfast.
My other friend just created a red haired family.
Whereas this other friend’s dad is a cooking addict and stuffs closets and couches with very good food.
I have a friend who lives in Paris in a paperwall apartment, she wears colorful clothes and she supports my trash-picking habits.
I have a friend who just had a baby boy called Jacopo Amadou who is perfect just like my other friend’s turtle who was named "Perfetta" after its own perfection.
Rome is dirty and messy and there are no nice cafes where you can sit all day and write. there are only tourist places or sad bars or expensive restaurants. no good places for the population to sit out in the sun without spending a fortune or without stupid formal waiters kicking you out as soon as you finish your drink. unfriendly city.
so i came home and had this.
i hate sundays.
My friend Alessia suggested that I wear a dalmatian outfit. Maybe I will.
well, tomorrow I should be going to this huge costume-rental place. I sent a fax from work saying that "one of our actresses needs to try out some dresses for a low budget short film we are preparing. The shootings will take place at the beginning of July".
If all else fails, I’ll wear a sari. or a sheet. Or this lovely blue piece of fabric I have at home. Maybe I can just wrap myself up like a present. or i can wear a bathrobe. or a coconut bra with a lion tail, which would make all the children happy.
Ach Gottverdumme, this dress issue is driving me crazy. i’ll just wear a barrel. well, ale and emi saw the first two dresses i tried on. One was green and it made me look EXACTLY like a leaf of grass. The other one was brown and pink and I looked like a Mozartkugel. I liked them both, but then I sent pictures to my mom, Silvia and Deborah Romano and received a bunch of no’s. which is a good thing, because they really werent worth all that money…
hey, anybody out there who can give me ideas? anne? nuy? simona? francesca? nadia? ale and emi?
My boyfriend Daniel (henceforth "il mi’fio") and I decided to throw a big party on July 2. The party will begin with a short and lively jewish ceremony called kiddushin in Hebrew, Hochzeit in German, casamiemto in Spanish, matrimonio in Italian and, finally, wedding in English.
I find it really hard to get used to that whole set of words like marriage, wedding, bride, white dress, lancio del bouquet, bomboniera, sposi. But maybe after 9 years (!) of boyfriend-girlfriendship there’s no need to get used to it anymore, and after all it’s just a big fat party. And, for the press, there won’t be any lancio del bouquet. I’m awfully sorry for all those who were hoping to catch the bouquet this time, but I won’t be throwing it. Maybe I can buy some bouquets so that if someone feels like it, they can throw it in the air and catch it again themselves.
Most of the people who will read these lines will probably come to the party at some point of the evening. i will post all the necessary information on these pages.
Basbussa (pr. Bus ‘boo sah): yellowish middle-eastern cake with pine nuts, yoghurt, sugar, butter and semolina.
Some consider it too sweet.
