Our trip to the Seattle Film Festival last night to see 36th Chamber of Shaolin was good (mostly). The movie seemed like a classic of the genre, and was very serious (to the level that made me think I wouldn't have appreciated it five years ago). The "chambers" were all pretty good, too, and constituted the plot more than the revenge-taking that motivated joining the temple. Afterwards we saw Kathleen Bennet outside the movie, and I thought she seemed distinctly cool toward me. But the real "mostly" is the spectacular cartwheel fall I took as I was running down Broadway with my freshly purchased dinner in my purse on my way to the theater. Although I didn't scrape myself at all, my fingers are painfully stiff this morning and probably need to be iced. I feel like I'm 70. Ow!
Today is filling up quickly. Phone interview at 11, lunch with Irene at 12:30, trip to the bank, take car in for repair estimate, argue with insurance agents. That will probably be everything I have time for prior to the "selling of the movie tickets" and trip to see Drunk Puppets.
I dreamed I was going through a "secret chamber" at Grandma's farm last night and someone told me I was avoiding my father. I told them I was just afraid of spiders. Does this mean something?