Shortly before I’m leaving for Berlin, Germany, my godson decides to be the Indian he was meant to be.
My hairdresser Christian cut my hair and we (godson, mother and me) had quick lunch at Nicole Farhi. My godson didn’t like the fact that I was about to leave again.
While I’m in Europe my apartment will be painted -- for the first time in twelve years. (My godson and his mother will take care of this. I wonder what my apatment will look like afterwards.) I don’t care for paint. But well -- you have to make an effort to pass for civilized.