Que sera . . . sera . . . whatever will be, will be.

When I went to file away my fortune from the previous post, I couldn't resist looking through some of the other fortunes in my collection (who can resist an envelope full of fortune cookie fortunes?) And because I like to hear myself talk, I was particularly happy to find this one on the top of the heap:

I think they meant "capitalize on it," but one probably shouldn't be critical of fortune cookie wisdom. The beauty of fortune cookie fortunes is they can operate on so many levels. (Remember in my last post how I suddenly realized that most things in my life were wonderful? I'm not sure I should always make it so easy for them.) For instance:

How can they go wrong with a prediction like that? I obviously went out for Chinese food in order to get the fortune in the first place, so it's a slam dunk for the fortune writers. And it continues to come true -- today I went to Jimmy John's for the #6 with no mayo. On the other hand, maybe the fortune was referring to more than just going to restaurants. Perhaps my natural cynicism gets in the way of my truly understanding what was at the heart of that cookie.

Glass half empty, anyone? I'm sorry. It's just the way I am. I'm going to try to do better.

See? It's an inspired idea. The first thing I'm going to try to change is my natural, autumn-induced laziness.

Actually, right now I seem to start dreading my next workout while I'm getting in the shower from this one. And the darkness makes me want to sleep until 9am. I could also eat my head off, if I could get my mouth around it. Russ and I went through an entire pecan pie in record time this weekend. (If you haven't read my blog before, please stay away from the diet post in the archives.) I wouldn't feel bad about myself, but I also found this fortune:

And I just don't feel like I'm functioning superbly. (Plus now I learn that it should come automatically.) But there may be an explanation:


I think the problem is that I have a potential urge, but no actual urge. Actually, that explains a lot.

Now we're going to switch to another topic, because:


Here's where we know fortune writers are lying, or else I picked the wrong cookie on the plate. Because Mr. Monk looks extremely versatile compared to me. Have you and I ever traveled together, for instance? Let me take this opportunity to extend my apologies to anyone who has ever been a victim of my lack of versatility. Maybe that's why they sent me this one again.

Perhaps fortunes should really be viewed as goals.

At least they got this one right:

Because I've never met an October where I wasn't considering a career change -- one that doesn't require me to make lots of art to get ready for Christmas shows, and preferably one that will relocate me to a warmer climate, if that's not asking too much. I don't want to be greedy.
But enough about me. Let's see what else I can find by rummaging through this pile . . .

Looking back, remember how this was supposed to be done before my trip?



Sorry. But it's getting really close!

I promise next time you see it, I'll be finished with it. And that will be soon.
Looking ahead, I'm working on some little collages for a variety of Christmas uses. Here are a few of the sketches I'm considering:








I'll show you a collage, as soon as I get one done.

Good. I hoped if I showed you a sketch I'd feel doubly committed. Because actually, I love making art for Christmas. It's one of my favorite things! I don't know why I was complaining earlier. You would be well within your rights to click the "x" on my whining. How can someone with such a great life who is doing exactly what they want to be doing every day of the week complain?


I don't know about delightful, but it's certainly a mystery. Now I think I'd better stop obsessing about myself and do something for someone else, because:

(actually, I guess the hoping for an inheritance part of that makes it still technically about myself. So technically, will the nice thing I did for someone else really count as being nice? Technically?)

Rats. This could go on all day. I'm closing the envelope.