on the way to the train station, w/ a warm container of saag on my lap, my mother talked to me about luck. she's never had much and she compensates by working hard. some people recognize that they're lucky and don't need to slave away at things. my theory is that luck works best when you don't assume it'll be five steps ahead, busy leveling all inclines for you. my father used to quiz me about the moral of macbeth. what was his downfall, he'd say. overconfidence, i'd answer. this was long before i'd read the play. i only knew his description of the story, and he lingered on the gruesome end. macbeth assumed he was invulnerable, but more than that, he assumed trees could never get up and walk towards the castle, that every man was born of woman. simple facts, maybe, but they contributed to his demise. the lesson: take nothing for granted, even the laws that keep trees plugged into the soil.

i learned various other things from my parents that stick with me. my mom always said not to take any wooden nickels. that meant don't be stupid. they both said don't talk to strangers which is stupid advice and i didn't listen. if i didn't talk to strangers, i wouldn't be here on the internet now, babbling away at the abyss. ben just arrived. he's gotten himself a haircut. haircuts are dangerous things: they change one's image, one's self-perception, and they make people reevaluate their opinions and impressions. i have kundera on the brain. oy. while i'm reading a novel, it becomes difficult to isolate my thoughts from the author's. when i gobbled up Angela's Ashes, i drove myself crazy by internally-monologuing in brogue.