Life, Minutiae, Toys, Irrational Phobias, Peeves, Fiber

Doom Cookie

Posted on | December 5, 2007 at 7:32 am | 1 Comment

Jogged Today: Yes (@ 42°F)
Songs That Came Up On The iPod While Jogging:

  • “Ready or Not” (The Lightning Seeds)
  • “Concrete” (Midnight Oil)
  • “U Li La Lu” (Poi Dog Pondering)
  • “Hollow Horse” (Icicle Works)
  • “Seventeen” (Invincible)
  • “Mass Romantic” (The New Pornographers)

Today’s Weight: 163.2 lbs
Lunch Yesterday: Drunken Noodles at Spicy Basil, where I received this fortune in my cookie:
Tell Me Something I Don't Already KnowSince, indeed, it did seem like the Fates have been aligned against me lately, then this speaks the truth and confirms reality (a=a, reflexive property). I had been feeling a sense of growing holiday stress and depression throughout the morning, and it was good to know that it wasn’t just my imagination. Although, strangely, it didn’t make me feel any better to have my feeling justified by a little random strip of paper inside a hard, obscenely-shaped confection of prognostication. Oh, and my lunch companion Pilto cackled when he read it. His fortune was something along the lines of “Everything’s coming your way”.

But was I going to let a prophesy of discontentment rattle me? Or was I going to rise above it and prove the dire words wrong? There was some chance that the pronouncement would spur me into action, would make me take charge of my life and my own happiness, that this holiday season would now create a different Flasshe: One who would revel in this celebration of all that is spiritual and commercial, who would greet the coming of each new day before the holiday as one extra day of glorious, uplifting Life, who would spread the joy to each and every person he encountered, said persons then exclaiming My life has been enriched by my exposure to this wonderfully happy creature, this pinnacle of humanity.

But then I realized I ate too much spicy food for lunch and was going to have a gassy afternoon followed by an uncomfortable morning of burning sensations in a delicate area. The Fates, indeed, are cruel.

A different savior of the seasonally disaffected must rise, and hopefully he or she does not patronize Asian eateries.

Oh, and before someone brings it up, yes I know that adding “in bed” to this one makes it even weirder. (”The Fates probably are in bed”?)

Pet Peeve of the Day: Fortune cookies should taste better, especially if they aren’t going to offer any helpful advice.



One Response to “Doom Cookie”

  1. Lisa
    December 5th, 2007 @ 8:55 pm

    I believe it was John Connor who said, “There is no fate but that which we make for ourselves.”

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