Irish Fortune Cookie

I woke up this morning grouchy. I had no reason to be. I guess. The calendar was still showing itself to be YESTERDAY, but other than that..all should be fine. I loved. I ate. I looked out my windexed-window as the rain drizzled down so miserably and misty-fine, that fog could not compete. And I was inside. Dry and warm. It was a fine day. If I was a bitch...it would only be because I could not see the beauty. And I couldn't. I pushed and pulled and drug and sweat through this Summer day...with all the momentum and ballet and patience of a jagged rock rolling down a cliff.

So, lunchtime, at 2:30 or so..I heard something that changed my perspective just a tiny bit. I guess it was a sort of Irish Fortune Cookie.

There were 4 of us, looking at menus, in a little gastro pub on the sea in East Cork. It smelled wonderful. We ordered and were left to our friendly reverie. One of us (not yours truly by the way) mentioned the fact that they were disappointed that a certain selection wasn't on the menu anymore. We lamented the fact that things change. And there was a pretty nice, rousing discussion as we concluded, "Yes, change is hard...but this is definitely as good as it gets". And it was.

As we got up to leave, the waitress asked us if "everything was fine for us?". We all said "yes, thank you!" , but then I just decided to add, "We DO lament that a certain dish you used to have, of sweet brown bread, fresh prawns with lemons, tabasco and salad-on-the-side is not on the menu anymore". She immediately replied..."oh, yes, but I think you can get what you want". And she DISAPPEARED into the kitchen.

We straggled around awhile, gathering ourselves to peel out the door, back into that misty-fog-of-a-day...and just as we started to cross the threshold, she seemingly came out of nowhere (although it was probably the gastropub's kitchen) and said, "I just asked the chef and he says: if you'd like that dish the next time you come...just ask". And THEN she said, (and this was the Irish fortune cookie part), "You just never know, unless you inquire. No harm in asking. Otherwise..you might not ever know the answer is YES".

And I swear...without her PHYSICALLY MOVING A MUSCLE....she winked an eye. Sparkle blue. Nothing. But magic. Bedtime 4 me. Ha!

I woke up the next morning vaguely aware, that after everyone had gone to bed last night, I stayed up with my computer and a very large glass of red wine. My first thought was, "oh crap!...'NEVER mix alcohol and writing'. Throw in my current hormone count and you have an extremely, explosive cocktail for disaster. I was convinced that I wrote ... See Moresomething much more akin to one of those long, butt-cringy letters that distant relatives send out at Christmas time, telling you EVERYTHING about their life...and their kids' life...and their parakeet's life, rather than something that was hopefully, slightly interesting. I grabbed some coffee. Grabbed my puter. And thought..."Maybe there's time to hit that delete button before anybody reads it"!!! I was relieved to find, it didn't seem too obtuse. It just occurred to me how amazing it is, that one, teeny, tiny COMMENT or TOUCH or LOOK from an absolute stranger can shift my perspective so radically from dark to light. I'm sure these cool, human, magical-moments occur DAILY...EVERYWHERE. Mostly when I least expect it. And, I guess what I'm saying is, it IS amazing to live here in such a raggedly-beautiful place, with my best pal. Wouldn't trade it for the world. But, even when I lived alone, on Top Ramen and sour cream in a creepy little studio apartment in Hollywood, putting WAY too many suspicious substances up my nose, living pay check to pay check...luckily...I thought THAT was all great too. I just keep rediscovering that, no matter what, I wouldn't want to be anyone other than myself. Which is actually a really healthy belief since I HAVEN'T GOT A CHOICE ANYWAY! There are a few things I wish for occasionally. Like it would have been excellent to have kids. Adopted or conceived. That is one experience that is a complete mystery to me. But I'm pretty sure of one thing, IF I had 10 kids, two dogs and 6 cats and lived in Pacoima, in a tent... I'd STILL have many of those cool, human, magical-moments that seemingly come out of nowhere to make me remember: "I'm lucky". O.K. maybe not a tent in Pacoima. According to that waitress, Mick Jagger and company were wrong. You CAN SOMETIMES get what you want. Or better yet, in the words of Edith Piaf, "Non,Je Ne Regrette Rien". O.K. I've now firmly entered butt cringe-ville, laughing all the way. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFRuLFR91e4