A Good Life?

Last Friday, John and I suffered our first major defeat in becoming cross- and high-cultured. I had been looking forward to seeing Beckett's "Waiting For Godot" since as soon as I saw it advertised at the York Theatre Royal. We were bragging about it all day to our fellows in dorm, class, and program, and set out a reasonable half hour early for the box office. However, when we walked through the doors, we were met by a large yellow SOLD OUT sign across the day's listings, and a rather stern older woman informed us that there was absolutely no way we would be able to see any of the remaining showings. But, I think I'll manage to pull myself together, and our budding plans to see the play version of "1984" are helping. This time, we'll know to pre-order our tickets.

Other than that, in my day-to-day activities, I'm trying to cultivate a good life for myself. This has mostly involved the more intellectual aspects of my life. For one, reading has never been such an important and rewarding part of my everyday life. Nearly everything I've spent time with so far, whether assigned readings for classes or impulsive library check-outs or impromptu internet discoveries, has all been working to give me a bigger picture of culture, literature, history, religion... the list could continue. And what has been even more exciting than this for me is the way my understanding of contemporary life is being affected. It's strange that learning about Vikings or the Arts and Crafts Movement could seem relevant to whether or not I want to go to grad school, but that's not far from the truth. I'm trying to make the most of this sort-of monastic sabbatical, as it's likely a one-of-a-kind opportunity. My hope is that all these abstract, theoretical mind games will be able to translate into real action and change in my post-England life. For now, though, it seems like all I can do is keep my nose in the books and my head in the clouds.

In other news, lots of cards have been happening as of late. Nearly every night there have been massive games of speed/spit, spoons, poker, rummy, and who knows what else. Tonight, there was a line of three games of spit happening on my bedroom floor while I sat and read. I take pride in thinking that I was somewhat involved in the beginning of this card craze, when John, Trine, Anne-Marte, and myself played a fierce game of Canasta last week. Of course, Trine and I cleaned up, as you can see in the below scores:

John, Anne-Marte: 3055
Trine, Ryan: 4220

John and Anne-Marte were forced to forfeit to avoid further embarrassment, which John tried to excuse by calling Canasta "just a game for old people. Besides, it's getting late..." I guess some people just aren't cut out for Canasta.



| photo: Canasta in action!