Look behind you.
Choose another fortune cookie
Smile like this says something funny.
Microsoft had just released their Website search engine "bing". At a chinese buffet this past weekend, I got a fortune cookie, and on the reverse side where they "teach you chinese" it said "bing" - Disease
Once I had one that simply said "Fish You"...
Another time my cousin had one that said "All of your future plans will succeed" & mine of course said "All of your future plants will succeed"=[
My friend got one that said something like, "You will find treasure in an unsuspected place."
One 2 seperate occasions I got the same fortune cookie. The first time I was with my girlfriend and we just finished taking the A.C.T and stopped to eat, I opened my cookie and it said "You are still hungry have another fortune cookie" so my friend took it to the guy working the counter and he gave us another one, this by the way happened in Mininesota where I grew up. The second time was a few years later, after I moved to California, The same girlfriend was visiting me and we were out to dinner with my grandma at buffet, and I had just got done telling the story of the first time I got the fourtune, and I opened my cookie, my mouth dropped, "you are still hungry have another fortune cookie" how weird is that???!!!!!
It would be a 10 hour flight, give or take. 10 hours east, 10 hours of flying away from me. 10 hours, almost a half of a day. He'd be flying towards the sun, and I'd be stuck in eternally sunny Los Angeles. The sun always seemed to shine brighter when he was gone, as it if was mocking me and my pessissim and dark outlook. Or it could just be that as a cynical New York born and bred East Coast girl, I didn't trust anything that stayed the same too long. I was used to seasons, variance, change was in my blood. Moving to Los Angeles, where everyone looked, dressed and talked the same threw me off. Maybe his constant traveling was karma's way of evening my life out. In this vein, in this heartache way, I would have preferred the sun to stay for 24 consecutive days if it meant that he could stay, just a few more days.
I squeezed his hand. He was staring out the window, at the palm trees. As much as I knew he didn't want to go to Japan, I knew he was glad to be escaping LA. He hated it here. London born and bred, he was used to the rain like I was used to snow. The constant sunshine annoyed him. The fakeness of the town got under his skin: from the plastic surgery to the fake nails, from the fake accents to the way everyone wanted to be your friend, he hated it all. Mocked it, laughed in it's face. Even as some of LA's most notorious residents begged for his friendship, he refused. He hated being wanted for something other than himself. I asked him often, if he hated it so much why did he stay? He would just blankly stare at me, smile and kiss me on the forehead. "Oh come on now Lola, you know why." He always said it jokingly, with laughter in his eyes and across his smile and a deep laugh from within, but my stomach always twisted into knots when he said those words. Was I keeping him here? Was I keeping him prisoner? It was that silent fear that kept me from begging him to stay, to postpone his appointments, to unpack his suitcase. I never did any of those things. I felt like I owed him that ticket of freedom, that ticket to ride in the sky and escape what he hated. Because if I didn't, I was too afraid to admit the real truth: that one day he'd wake up, suitcase packed and hating me. And that when that day came, he would only be holding a one way ticket in his hands.
He turned and smiled at me. "What are you going to do while I'm gone this time Lols?"
"Miss you terribly, as always." He kissed my forehead, and I nestled into his side as he wrapped his arm around me. How many times had we sat like this, in the backseat of this car counting down the minutes until our next goodbye?
The car pulled to a stop in front of the airport. I could feel my hands shaking already. This was the worst. We stayed snuggled in the backseat, afraid to move, to be seperated. I heard Dave from the front get out and walk around to the back where his bags were packed. Two garment bags, and a duffel. He packed his own bags, brought his own clothes. He hated being styled. It added to the fakeness factor. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter, turning to me, and cupped my face in his hands. "I love you." Even know, 5 months after hearing him say it the first time, I was amazed how easily it was said, liquid smooth and earnestly warm. "I love you too." His fingers tangled themselves in my hair as we kissed our goodbyes, not wanting to speak the words, instead letting our bodies do the talking. It was easier that way. "See you in six days." He kissed my nose, my forehead, hugging me close. He got out of the car, pulled his hood over his head, threw sunglasses on his face in a vain attempt to not be recognized. "Konichiwa." I smiled. "Fly safe babe." I stayed in the car as always. He shoulders were slumped, burdened with the upcoming six days of hectic racing from interview to interview, red carpet to red carpet, standing and posing for pictures. He would do it all with a smile on his face, but he had admitted, it was just going through the motions. It wasn't hard to answer questions and smile. He was more sad that he would be in Japan, but not get to see Japan except as it passed quickly through his limo windows. I shut the door and waited as Dave got back in the driver seat. Six days, that wasn't even our longest seperation. But as I watched him walk into the airport, I felt my throat tighten. 10 hours of flying, towards the sun.
I got this one just the other day:
"Next week, your luck color will be green!"
What the hell?