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Fortune Cookie

Fortune Cookie
You're specific enough that I want what you foretell...
But vague enough that it could count for just about anybody...
but still I fall for it every time,
and keep your paper,
simply hoping.
Recent posts


A blogger I admire wrote a post filled with his confessions about anything. The post was without premeditation or editing, no matter how private or potentially embarrassing the information. I was inspired.

A few confessions of mine, written as they come to me...

I only eat broccoli because I know it's good for me. But I'm squeamish at it's flavor, and can only handle it when accompanied by a heavy dosage of dressing.

I'd rather go hiking than shopping.

Nine times out of ten I will buy a hot pretzel if I pass a pretzel vendor in ANY circumstance and NO MATTER how pricy the cost.

I'm a detestable grouch when woken in the middle of the night.

My husband is the only man I've ever kissed.

I feel most comfortable conversing with people in their 70's or older.

Most PG-13 movies make me feel uncomfortable.

My nose flares when I'm really, truly, laughing.

I struggle with 90% of political issues because I can see both sides and empathize with individuals promotin…


You grow, you grow, you grow, and I can't stop it.
A year ago right now I fretted about losing newborn snuggles and your tiny-baby cry,
but I traded it for swinging at the park and giggle fights and board book after board book
So can it be that bad?

You grow, you grow, you grow, and I can't stop it.
I can't imagine a life where you and me don't spend hours playing with horses and blocks
Eating cheerios and watching Curious George, taking walks to the grocery store and back.
Yet tomorrow we'll be shooting hoops, dancing in the kitchen, and practicing piano
And could it be that bad?

You grow, you grow, you grow, and I can't stop it.
And while at times I will definitely mourn the good times past (that's who I am, you're stuck with me)
I want to spend most moments loving me and you
the way we are
right now
the way you are
right now.

Spider Assassins

Because I'm not as saintly as my brother Corey or my cousin Abbey, I condone the killing of spiders that have intruded upon one's living space.

However, I rarely have the gumption to do the deed myself, because arachnids gross me out.

Once, while teaching 3rd grade, a rather large non-poisonous spider was traipsing across the rug. I announced to the class to back away, and that I was going to get my broom to kill it, when a rather spunky and outdoorsy youngster leapt to his feet and cried, "I kill spiders with my bare hands!" After which he dove to the carpet in a Steve Irwin-esque leap and smashed the little beast with his palm. I was taken aback in surprise and admiration at once. I made sure he properly washed his hands, of course, and thanked him for taking care of it. That night I told my husband about the event, and we shared a good laugh about it.

Earlier this week, I discovered a spider creeping up on me and shrieked about it to Kevin. Since there was not a t…

So... Eavesdropping, Am I Right?

Some say it's shameful, but I say it's just life--eavesdropping happens whether you mean to or not, especially when in close quarters with someone else's conversation.

So, confession. I'm a very curious person and I delight in getting to know the interesting and less-obvious things about people. Eavesdropping is one of the ways I learn amazing, funny, and curious things about individuals I will most likely never see again. The problem though? Eavesdropping is like eating really sugary cereal. After eating one bowl, you just want another and another and another. Overhearing a conversation always makes me hungry for what they were going to say next.

A few things I've heard this week...

Youth #1: "Umm, Brad, what are you doing?"
Youth #2: "Buying Poptarts man."
Youth #1: "Dude, Betos, and now this? Do you know how many calories are in those things?"
Youth #2: "Yeah. But they're good."
Youth #1: "Aw, I thou…


My husband's birthday was this week, and I felt a little sheepish that he only had three presents to open, one of which was a box of cereal (family tradition). The other two were some socks and a test sampler of 15 teeny-tiny cologne vials, he's still trying to identify his manly musk.

I'd spent most of our budgeted allotment of birthday funds on a birthday date to an Asian Buffet and the Nickel Arcade the weekend before, and seeing those three little presents on the table, I felt sort of bad.

I'm miserable at hiding my emotions and Kevin could tell something was bothering me. After a little of his prying, I confessed. Yet again my husband wowed me with his perspective (I often feel like his padowan learner when it comes to mature perspectives on life). He said, "Mikayla, I've had a lot more than just three presents. Think about all the frootie candies we had at the nickelcade. All the sushi rolls, chinese donuts, mongolian beefs, noodles, grains of rice we a…

More Stuff I Wonder About.

Is French salad dressing really French?

I still think Carmen SanDiego is in SanDiego. Shouldn't that be obvious?

Allen's grocery store. It went out of business more than a year ago, yet even still, its neon lights display half the letters in its name at nightfall. Who pays the bill?

There's a homeless man I've given granola bars to many times. There's a corner in my little city where he can be seen begging most nights. He wears a beret. Why a beret?

The average-sized taco shop a few blocks south of me has four open signs, two in the south side windows, two in the west side windows. I have always wondered why they have four. On Thanksgiving day they missed one, and it was glowing all day and through the night even though there wasn't another glimmer of light or life inside the place.

How to say that I have astigmatism. I was diagnosed with it two years ago. I thought for the longest time that "stigmatism" was a noun and that "a" was an indefi…