My great appreciation for the whimsical is even greater when the whimsy is wrapped in something sweet and edible (even when it might be cheesy, strange, or in Engrish) like
fortune cookies.
I used to crack the cookies open for the fortunes and leave the manila-folder-colored shards on the table, usually only taking a nibble or two. The problem, I didn't realize until later, was that the cookies were often
stale.
A stale fortune cookie is even worse than a stale fortune. When they're fresh, though, fortune cookies can be a pleasure--light, crisp, gently sweet.
Truth be told, though, I'd rather have chilled orange slices. The problem with those is that rarely are enough served for each person at the table to get more than one or two slices.
I have a deep, deep love of citrus fruit. Mmmmmmm.
Okay, back to fortune cookies.
I've always had a fascination with the fortunes, with the ways they might resonate with my life, even when they are ridiculous. At some point, I decided to start keeping the fortunes in my wallet. Because they were good reminders, or because they made me laugh, or because I'm just a sentimental fool. Since I don't have Chinese (or insert-Asian-ethnicity here) take-out very often, the fortunes are a rare treat.
Except I've gotten two in the last week because my roommate came home with about a dozen fortune cookies which she'd scavenged from work.
This was a long way of saying: I collect fortunes from fortune cookies and I'm going to start sharing them here.
This is one of the first ones I ever kept:
It's one of my favorites. You can tell it hung out in the little driver license window in my wallet for a while.
Until next time.
Make big plans.
