crabs

Am feeling like I may have crabs. I'm itching, and see what may be unhatched insects on my body hair. I have had them several times before, but it's been a few years. Not fun, will have to buy kwellada and wash my bedding, all my clothes, spray things, etc. I guess it will be a few days before I know for sure.

What's new? Had a bad fight with my mother on the phone 2 days ago. Won't go into details, but I said some things, not 'things I didn't mean' ( in the words of Lisa Stansfield). but just the opposite, things I did mean, but never say, to spare her feelings. They were not taken well, even though they were pretty mild in my opinion. It just makes me realize an actual honest conversation with her is pretty well impossible. This could be the beginning of a long estrangement, which sort of seemed inevitable, anyhow.

What else? Have been bicycling up Mount Royal a lot lately: twice a week, maybe. It gets a bit easier every time, and I feel like I'm finally losing some weight. I may look like a bear, but it's not something I ever aspired to, although it does get me some action, more so than if I were just fat and blond, with no body hair. It helps being bald, chubby (5 ft 8, 200 lbs), and hairy, with Mediterranean looks.

And speaking of action, had an encounter not long ago with a Kurdish Turk I had done once before, about 5 years ago. Both times in bathhouses. Anyhow, this time I wasn't that into it, but I let him rim me. Only problem, I had had a bit of diarrhea that day. No, nothing too gross happened, but I was worried, as my bowels were feeling a bit volatile, and shitting in someone's face would be about the worst thing that could happen to someone. So, anyway, things started smelling a bit foul, but only just a bit, and he was really getting into it, tonguing my ass with fervour and enthusiasm. The smell remained subtle, but unmistakable, and I could see what seemed to be slightly brown drops on the sheet. I couldn't take it anymore, but he came, and I left, but not before catching a glimpse his literally shit-eating grin. Actually, I suspect it was a very small amount, and I couldn't be sure if the brownish tinge to his face was real, or just a trick of the light. I left quickly, not wanting to find out. But in a Seinfeldian final twist, as I was showering a few minutes later, I saw the Kurd come downstairs, and go to the sink, and very rapidly rinse off his face with a bit of soap, for maybe all of 30 seconds. Then he disappeared up to his room, and as I was drying myself off a couple of minutes later, I saw him come downstairs fully clothed, and leave. Now, there is only one shower area in this particular sauna (the 456), so I was quite revolted that he didn't even take one before leaving, especially after our less-than sterile encounter. If I ever see him again, or get to know him socially, I will not be able to get this out of my head

the Underminer

Frenemy A.L. from Ottawa is in town for the weekend. He is quite agoraphobic, and ever the underminer, especially when outside of his hotel room. Denigrates me and others when he feels vulnerable and insecure, still diagnosing and pathologizing everyone around him, refusing to take responsibility for his failure at virtually everything he has attempted: literature student, hairdresser, social worker, financial adviser, and now dogwalker. Refers to himself as an entrepreneur, but even the term 'dilettante' is too generous. He needs constant reassurance that he doesn't look 40, that he seems saner than before, bla, bla, bla. I can't say he's much worse off. More a broken record, but I suppose being 40, rather than 28 and in his state of permanent inertia could be seen as a turn for the worse.

Am listening to 'This Boy's in Love', by the Presets. Quite good.

Mother and stepfather were in town on Friday. We met after work, walked to 'l'Express' for dinner. Bad service, Mom announced as we began the walk that she was probably going to trip, which of course she did about 2 minutes later, landing hands-first on the sidewalk. I barely reacted, simply saying 'Mom', in a really disdainful way, and barely responding. Ted was much more helpful. I don't care, I am totally put off by her extreme clumsiness, which I attribute to her increasing distractedness and extreme nervousness. I still remember our huge argument last year in NYC, when I blew up at her after about the tenth time she stumbled and landed on me. When I suggest she should maybe see a doctor, she gets testy. And her main excuse is that she likes to look at the architecture and scenery, as if that and walking are mutually exclusive. She always has at least one major bruise on her body, usually the result of a fall. She has to do something, or risk possible serious injury. Either deal with the problem or reduce activities. But I would be insincere to suggest I am concerned, as I personally doubt it's medical at all. I think it's part of her helpless child act, acting like a distracted idiot and letting others do the thinking and handle the logistics, but that it's getting worse with age, and manifesting more as physical clumsiness than in the past.