misfortune cookie

i remember the time i got a fortune cookie with no fortune in it. i figured it was that whole "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" philosophy and the all-knowing fortune cookie was simply taking the high road by choosing not to reveal my bad luck or craptastic karma. so, bitch though i did, i was secretly relieved. no news is good news, right?

fast forward to a cold night last january. sitting at home, waiting for a call about a date that never showed. i chose to drown my sorrows in wine and a buffet of chinese food. after hoovering more crab rangoon, rice, general tsao's chicken and lo-mein than any one human should ingest in a single sitting, i turned to my fortune cookie for comfort and the promise of something, anything, to hope for. here is what that little scrap of paper said:

"work on improving your exercise routine"

what the fucking hell? just. plain. rude. THAT was the last thing i needed to be told after being stood up and eating enough to feed a third world country. ugh.

fast forward again to last night. after enjoying some yummy sushi and fried rice, i pulled the plastic off my fortune cookie and broke it open. lo and behold, the fortune inside was yet another spectacular message. it read:

"voice your fears. safety may be at stake"

jesus, mary and joseph! can't a girl get a decent fortune?? does the all powerful fortune cookie god really hate me that much? and i have to admit, because i'm getting ready to jump on a plane to colorado and go skiing for the first time to celebrate my 30th bday, i'm a little nervous about this one warning me of impending doom. there. i said it. i voiced my fear. does that mean my safety is no longer at stake?? shitfuck. i'd like to go back to the empty cookie, please.

i think from now on i will bypass reading my fortune cookies all together. that way, what i don't know won't hurt me, right? oh, and in case anyone out there wants to know how it feels to be me, check this out. welcome to my world.