Yesterday, I invited Amy, a girl I met through the Socrates Cafe, to come over to my apartment for tea and cookies. She and I had gone together to a dance class in Seomyeon earlier that week, Tuesday night, and had a blast. Choreography to popular songs. Great workout. We played a game of pool after the hour's exertion, which I managed to win properly (not by default because someone sank the 8-ball).
I forgot how much I missed girl talk. She and I sat in the kitchen, listening to the rain, discussing anything from globalization to fortune telling. I turned on the Entertainment channel and she read my palms, told me they showed that I had no strong roots to a particular home, oh, I forget most of it now...but I did tell her I would read her cards.
Hers, like my most recent, was full of trouble, but with the promise of hope. Unlike mine, however, hers stemmed from problems with her mother, whereas mine had more to do with worries of finding romance. Her mother showed up in the cards, as the Queen of Swords. Fragile balances, a tentative belief in control, without true security. She was surprised, like most people I've encountered, at how accurate and personal the reading was to her current situation.
Today, I met Eric for lunch. We got on the subject of art and movies. My knowledge of movies is inferior, or at least more specific, than his, but I did manage to incorporate some theater history, of which he was unaware. He'd never heard of Beckett, for example. I thought Endgame was fairly famous, the one with the irritable parents, Nell and Nagg, who live in trashcans filled with sawdust and occassionally pop out with some grievance, inspired Oscar the Grouch, a rather unpleasant character who lives in a trash can and only comes out to complain.
Anyway, he went off to watch Star Trek, which I expect a review of from him, and I came back to read Love in the Time of Cholera.
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