November 23. For a ritual like Thanksgiving we lack all the necessary normalcy. That makes it all the more cute if, rooted in our weirdness, we try to enact something uniform and recurring. Even more than the meticulously prepared meal, Jess is delighted with the dining table that now, after more than two years, finally stands in the middle of the room, with a new teak tray in the middle and candlesticks on it that she bought in an antique store just yesterday. The chairs with the parabolic seat backs are placed around it; everything has an austere but giving character. J. has been making Kartoffelklöße for this day ever since we met, and they are getting closer and closer to the dish of my childhood. The most difficult thing, however, is the discussion about the pronunciation of the word. She often thinks I’m making fun of her, or that I’m suggesting improvements to the vowels that aren’t necessary because she’s already doing it as well as she can. – We are two people who don’t fit in anywhere except with each other.