babies in china, under the age of three, wear totally crotchless outfits. when they have to pee, their mothers cradle their arms under the toddlers' legs, like the toilet seats they will never know, and let them piss ANYWHERE. really. the sidewalk, a potted plant, my boots, anywhere. and i can not even describe how cute, albiet potentially pedaphiliac, it is to see mushy, rosy, brand new asian genitalia and tushies everywhere. see that? i finally said something nice about china. i realized, last lost entry, it has been way more interesting to write about the struggle. let me assure you, beauty is on the tip of my horizon every moment. i need to create an internal home again before i can access it. so for now, it's grime and grit and surperficial stories about basketball stars.

i needed a broadway musical lead-in for that one. so ajani, the cba player, just left beijing today. he came for 2.5 days to see me, shop, get his hair braided. of course i got sick again. if you are keeping any sort of track of my health, i have been very sick FOUR times in two months. that's THREE more times per year than in san francisco. FUCK POLLUTION. and walking all over the city getting sweaty in the cold wind just to see apartments. and riding the bus. so he got a room at the grand hotel downtown. i met up with him after work, filming another stand-up. i went to his hotel. we were super comfy from the get go. we got a drink in the lobby, which began my external mantra: "i hope you know this isn't foreplay." he didn't think i was funny. i was hilarious. really. something about his personality made me really on. and he gave in. i am a kick in the pants. so we went up to the room instead of going out because i was sniffly and snotty and feeling like a seven year old. and get this. we had two blind men sent to his room for a one hour full-body massage and a half-hour foot massage. these guys were not blind because they wore watches. that was our first clue. and my chinese is getting good. they reckognized ajani. ahem. "blind" and "reckognize", do i stutter? so we were cracking up. and when they left, i just crashed there. he tried to cuddle but i was totally clear. i told you man, that was not foreplay.

it has been a strange reality of schlepping all over town. from a five-star hotel to diarrhea over a filthy leaking cement hole. from a full-body massage, to a fluorescent lit cell. i need me a home. and fast.

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