[from notebook #18, written on 10/26/2003]
Fortune cookies. Of course, the In Bed Game is always amusing. I have, since college, collected the fortunes that seem particularly appropriate for that game. I don’t eat Chinese/Asian food that often, so I only have four or five of them, but it does seem that everytime I do get a fortune cookie it is strangely apt for the IBG.
I slide them into my wallet and pull them out for amusement, usually while opening a new cookie, showing them to my eating companions for a laugh. These include:
Quality counts and you’ve got it.
Happiness is a state of mind.
Your talents will be recognized and suitably rewarded.
But then things seemed to change a little, as if everyone involved in the process — from whoever dreams up these things to the packagers and the people who fold them into the cookies, to the server who brings them to us with the bill — all were conspiring. But not against me, rather the opposite — conspiring for me. It could also be that my limited evil-mindedness has been evaporating. (Though Ni and I are still mildly amused by the IBG.)
Your artistic talents win the approval and applause of others.
seemed to me not so much humourous as encouraging.
Then. Last time we went to a local buffet, New China, just me, Ni and the PandaGirl. Stuffed ourselves (and while Ni and I stuff much more easily than we used to, what with eating less and working out, the child still requires a good deal of stuffing — maybe more than ever before). Then the waiter brought us the bill and three cookies. I broke one open for the baby. Ni picked one up, and for some reason I said, “Sweetie, I think that one’s mine.” He opened it anyway, looked at the fortune and said, “You’re right, it is.” And handed it to me.
So delightful. I showed ND, who I think of as my local mentor of writing encouragement, and she suggested I make it into a bookmark, even offered her laminator’s services. So I have, with embossed gold Oriental stamps. I will read it often, and take it as a good omen.