I can give you the present, I don't know about the future (that's just stuff and nonsense)

Guess what I forgot today? Yep, camera. This failure is along the same lines with the fact that I can't for the life of me keep a planner. Sure, I'll write everything down and feel smugly organised at the beginning of the week---but I'm not going to look at those notes ever again. Note to self: remember notes to self.

The good news is that I had it with me last night, when Franco showed us up through countless crooked stairs to our palazzo roof, a small catwalk above the city bathed in the light of a full moon. But I didn't have it at dinner, to document prophecies and palm readings, and I didn't have it this morning, when Lauren and I passed a wee delivery truck just begging to be photographed on our way to school.

But back to the fortune telling. The Polacca was back, a rather crazy lady that we came to love and appreciate when she was here last week for dinner. And this round was just as good as the last, smiles sneaked across the tables as she talked and talked and talked, while the rhinestone "SHOWY" across her shirt sparkled in the lamplight. At one point, her mistakes ("Prego per te, prego per te, e prego per te," she said, passing around the dessert) had Franco laughing so hard he could hardly breathe---and when she went on about a flower from her homeland called "Lucrezia," Luigia looked askance. Who knew that was only the beginning?

She was still explaining the Lucrezia flower while we were clearing up the table, when Virginia asked (a little cheekily, methinks) what her name meant. At this, the Polacca became very serious. "Virginia," she breathed, one hand over hers, "you have a very grand name. And I see that you will have a very grand life." I smiled, thinking this was all part of the game. Virginia only urged her on. "Wait, you can see the future?"

There was a dramatic pause, the room silent, the clock ticking. "Yes," our Polish friend replied, heavily, reverently. "But only sometimes."

And so began a long complicated next twenty minutes, in which both Virginia and Franco's palms were read ("It won't be as good, since I do not have the right words."), energies explained ("Oh yes, yes. I have a very positive energy."), and signs sought ("I have an unfortunate psychology, because I was born on September 7th."). Unfortunately, I missed a good two minutes of the gypsy show because I have this habit of remembering my sister during such strange moments, which sends me into hysterics. I ran for the safety of an empty kitchen, where I collapsed against the countertop for some final laughter and a few deep breaths before regaining some sort of composure and joining the table once again. The Polacca was not so amused. "Why do you smile?" she demanded.

My tongue still hurts, I had to bite it so hard.

By the end of the storytelling session she had at least three cups of white wine in her, and the promise to return tomorrow to read Luigia's future. Later that night, after the rooftop adventure, we gathered in our loft room to translate and relive the better parts of the evening for Alyssa and Kendis, who could only guess at the goings-on. Oh, it is a story that will last a while longer.

And now there are half a dozen Swiss boys singing around the Common Room piano, switching from German to English to Italian and back again. I don't know; life is just pretty puddle-wonderful.