"To what avail is friendship since it fills my life and then is gone as if it never had been? And what do I care for your problems that I have shared, since I shall never share in their solution, shall never know nor care to know their outcome. Your destinies are of no interest to me, now, nor is mine to you. To your collective lives the gap made by my absence will be easily filled, like water running into place, but to my single life, your absences will be a wound."
Last night I went up to the Crest ($3.00) and saw the movie Waitress. It is a good flick, brightly colored, small town Southern, women buddies, etc. All the men are fools, except for Andy Griffith, who is a wise old codger (cantankerous on the outside, softy on the inside). The movie is sustained by the woman who is the star and whose name escapes me as I sit here. She is just wonderful, though. The whole pie cafe culture is perfectly done.
There is a somber note, though. Underneath the film is the knowledge that the director and actress (Dawn in the movie) Adrienne Shelley was murdered last November, killed by a construction worker who was remodeling the apartment beneath hers in Greenwich Village. Her role in the movie is comic, but the laughs in the theater were hollow, sad to say.
An unusual thing happened before the movie, too. I had got there early enough to sit for a while and read the Pepys biography I am finishing. I don't think I send out vibes saying "Speak to me," do I? Even when I am not reading, I don't signal that conversation from strangers is desirable. Well, nose-in-book didn't deter a man from talking to me. "Whatcha reading?" And that was followed by a conversation that was not going to end until I went into the theater. He was pleasant and just wanted to talk; was curious about me, too. I told him teacherly stuff. I am sure he was just a lonely person, looking for a few minutes of human connection, but only my politeness enabled me to chat with him.
In the process I was distracted. I got a spot of popcorn butter on one of my Pepys pages, and I spilled my lemonade on the rug.
I read this sentence in The World is Flat:
"China has more than 160 cities with a population of one million or more."
It is such a surprising datum that I don't know what to say about it.