Vienna rules!

Despite being sick, I got to see a good bit of the city yesterday. We went to Stephansplatz, the main square, and walked around a lot of the inner ring. Later we went to Neubau, which is kind of like Vienna's version of Pacific Heights. Lunch was a veggie (thank God -- I couldn't handle any more meat) place called Nice Rice, and dinner was at a Balkan restaurant called Beograd. Also went to the oldest cafe in Vienna, which I believe has been open since 1778 and was a favorite of Mozart.

Now if only I could get rid of the stuffy head and remaining sore throat. Being sick when you're traveling sucks, but at least I'm feeling better.

Vienna waits for me ... to speak

We're staying in this gorgeous hotel, with a bathroom rivaling the size of some bedrooms I've had, and I'm sick in that way where my voice is gone, and my nose is stuffed, and my chest is congested, and I can't sleep more than two consecutive hours. Adam asked what he could do to help. I told him to just have patience with me today. I'm going to be slow as hell, but I will see Vienna.

We happy? We happy!

For nearly six years now, I've been telling Adam about Cafe Bajer: the best cafe I've ever seen in Europe and a strong contender for best cafe ever. This place is amazing -- full of kitsch like you wouldn't believe, cappuccinos to beat the band, amazing service, comfortable, class act. I don't think I could have made it through nearly half a year in Pardubice without Bajer.

Today we walked in and all the great feelings came back. Milan, the owner, has expanded. The place is more than twice its original size and yet every seat in the house was full.

I recognized one of the servers. He smiled and said: "Hello! Good to see you." After six years!

Later Milan came over and greeted us. He remembered me too! He was walking around with a ballcap on, looking just about exactly as I remember him. We chatted for a while and he told me Adam looks like John Lennon. Then he brought us free sparkling wine and insisted on comping us.

Amazing! Awesome! We're so going back tomorrow before we leave.

Prague has won at least part of my heart back. Tomorrow on to Pardubice!

I don't love Prague and I never did. But I love being here with Adam.

Ugh!

This is a terribly obnoxious article about "5 Things Super-Happy Couples Do Every Day." The lede:

Lord knows this is not the sort of thing guys brag about. But my wife and I have a ridiculously happy marriage. Really, it's almost disgusting.

We paw each other in public. We goof around like a pair of simpletons. We basically act like giddy newlyweds in the middle of happy hour. Sometimes we'll do something so revolting, like sitting on the couch and drawing smiley faces on the bottoms of each other's feet, that we're forced to make hacking, gagging noises to maintain our dignity. Actually, this happened just last week.

The first rule of Super-Happy Couplehood: You do not talk about the disgusting mechanics of Super-Happy Couplehood. Not the way this dude does it, anyway. From the looks of it, I'll bet he's headed back to marriage counseling in another year or two.

A call for coworking

I've definitely thought to give this a try. In any event, it's heartening to see infrastructure emerging for what used to be such a cowboy pursuit -- going it solo.

Adam: "Wow, that's some Ravi Shankar bullshit."

Judge for yourself.

In Haiti, people eat mud. In America, we bitch because our MP3 players are "so 2007."

Ugh

As I told Patty over email just now, the Grim Reaper has been giving me a deep-tissue massage. I'm sick, sick, sick. Adam's slightly worse off. And we leave for Prague and Budapest on Wednesday. Yee-hah!

ME: Do you think I'd be a really bad lesbian?
ADAM: You don't like eating poontang.
ME: Yeah.
ADAM: And you're not a big sushi eater.
ME: Yes, I am.
ADAM: Not that sushi.

Avoid cellular-blowout.com

I would urge anyone interested in purchasing a phone online -- and actually receiving it in a respectable amount of time -- to avoid this website. Adam ordered a new phone for me through them (after dropping my old one in a puddle) late last month. It is now more than two weeks later, supposedly the phone is on back order, and they're not returning calls or emails. Meanwhile, they have his money.

The internet is one of the most powerful ways to reveal scams, so here you go: a string of words, search-engine optimized, to make sure these guys don't scam other people:

cellular-blowout scam
cellular-blowout.com sucks
cellular-blowout.com bad customer service
cellular-blowout.com reviews
cellular-blowout.com avoid

Jukebox Stories

Saw this tonight at Impact Theatre. If you haven't seen it and you're in the Berkeley area, go! It's totally worth a check-out.

Yes, I'm a dork. We knew this.

I love these guys!

A world of difference

Eight years ago, I made an appointment in secret and had laser hair removal on my face in the shadow of the Claremont Hotel in Berkeley.

I told no one. The procedure took an agonizing hour and left me miserably, painfully broken out. Two days later I flew to Venice and spent far too much time pacing that beautiful city in search of something that would give me relief. I had two subsequent laser treatments, but since I wasn't on medication at the time for the congenital adrenal hyperplasia that causes the hair to grow in the first place, it was like swimming upstream.

Flash forward. Valentine's Day, eight years later. Adam drove me to a medical spa in downtown Walnut Creek. I drank wine, he drank coffee, and we sat there and joked about the Botox posters. The procedure took 10 minutes and was entirely bearable. Hours later, I've seen no signs of swelling or breaking out, and I'm hoping that won't change.

Afterward, he hugged me and called me beautiful. Then we went to Fresh Choice.

I'm in for many more treatments, but this is a start.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.

Tomorrow

I hope, and I believe, that everything will turn out all right.

This is not 2000. This is 2008. Times are different. So am I. Everything will be fine.

I'm not as hard on Code Pink as I was even a few days ago. That doesn't mean I love their tactics. It means I may get their message.

More

More pix

Code Pink at Civic Center Plaza

Code Pink descends tonight ...

And I'll be at meditation class, not really missing it. Ladies, is what you're doing going to lead to less suffering or does it just make you look really dumb? Also, you might want to watch the consumerism. When Adam and I stopped by your little circus tent on the City Hall lawn last night, your World Can't Wait cronies were there, selling $20 T-shirts. And the shirts sucked. As we walked by, I managed to get out a quip about how the World Can't Wait for shitty shirts. Hey, just doing my part.

Best SFGate comment from the Chron story: "If Medea Benjamin (formerly Susan) and the new Vietnam Spitters are so anti-violence, why not walk to Oakland and do something real?" Indeed.

The sad truth is that most people going through the day, actively pursuing their business, don't have any idea you're alive. Nothing is personal. They aren't trying to wound you; they're too busy protecting their own wounds. - Arthur Jeon, City Dharma

A few of what I'm sure have been many letters to the Berkeley Daily Planet with regard to the Code Pink brouhahaha. One can only imagine the vitriol flung by Becky O'Malley at those who disagree with her opinion. That paper doesn't even make an attempt to be objective.

I went to see David Roche read tonight at Cody's. Why, Dimi, why you do this to me? I'm talking here about the audience. Berkeley audiences at readings are retarded. Total sycophants. Faux smiles throughout. I found it insulting, frankly. As Roche talked about his disfigurement, they just kept kissing his ass. Could this really be the point to why he was up there?

St. Mary's professor killed

This is so sad. Though I never knew John Dennis, I probably saw him on campus. He seems like an interesting, engaging, and definitely intelligent guy. What a terrible way to die.

Valium's the best

Nothing like ending up at the Alta Bates ER bright and early on a Saturday. Let's look at the bright side: I am super-stoned right now and it's legal. Fucking-A YES!

Another plus of meditation: The ability to think through something I've written, and decide it's enough to think it ... and not make it public.

And why am I up at 3 am?

I'm waiting for the Ibuprofen to work. A few weeks ago I injured my back at the gym. A few nights of pain and then it was fine. Then I re-injured it and have been trying to take it easy. Then today I did a few crunches. Big mistake.

Damn. This hurts so much. I can't wait for the drugs to work so I can pass back out again.

Life's rich pageant

Among the things I'm learning from meditation: The many layers that make up a single moment. Think about everything you experience in a single instant. Think hard. There's more than initially meets the eye ... or the mind.

If I didn't adore the Farm, I would already have left Berkeley. I could go on, but really, that will suffice.

Prague

On Feb. 20, I'll rediscover this city.

Tonight

Adam and I waited until the rain stopped, then went to the donut shop. I chose a little maple critter. "Man," I said. "This is perfect. It's like, warm and fresh and awesome. Its big donut momma just gave birth to it."

Adam said: "Are you going to lick the afterbirth off the bag?"

This is why I love this guy. He gets me.

Yesterday I dreamt I was getting married in front of a group of family and loved ones. I looked out and felt good. I felt peaceful.

Another reason to be disgusted by the Berkeley City Council

Sure, it's okay to shout down everyone' s opinions but your own.

Sure, it's okay to disturb an entire clutch of businesses in downtown Berkeley.

Sure, it's okay to make loud, megaphone-aided, pink-clad asses of yourselves.

Code Pink now has a sound permit and a designated parking space for protest outside the U.S. Marine Corps recruiting station. What will these narrow-minded old broads do when they realize the very people who fight and die to give them their right to scream can't do their job? Not to mention when they piss off Peoples Cafe enough that they stop letting them use their bathroom when they don't even buy anything for the privilege.

Honestly, I'd say about 50 percent of me (and perhaps more) truly loathes Berkeley. You want to talk about a hypocritical, narrow-minded, holier-than-thou populace? You'll find it right here between Ashby and Gilman avenues off of I-80.

Randoms

- I'm going to be published in Hustler. No byline, but still. I'm kinda stoked.
- I'll never understand parents who let their kids run around in public places where it's clearly inappropriate. I'll never understand parents who are determined to make their kids the star of the show, no matter how uncomfortable it makes everyone else in the room. And if you think that pisses me off, you should talk to Adam.