Love Those Fortune Cookies, Part 25

fortune20cookieI hate false hope. Despise it. But, if you’ve been reading this blog — all six of you — you know that I often get fortune cookies that somehow pertain to my current situation.

This particular day has been nothing but dark clouds. (And now it’s just plain dark, regardless of cloud cover.) My Cygnus Radio show didn’t happen this morning (for the second time in the two months since I started it) because of another damned software/headphone/mic problem. In the scheme of things, it was small, but it was a trigger event — one more frustration atop every other frustration I’ve encountered over the last four years. Frustration after frustration after frustration after … Okay, I know — you get it.

And this afternoon, I got a rejection — for a copywriter job at an ad agency in Brooklyn. Only one day after I sent in the application. That’s some sort of personal record. Not sure, after 450 or so vain attempts to land a job these last four years, whether to accept the fact that I’m truly a deplorably shitty writer and worthless human being or be grateful that, unlike 99.9 percent of the work world, this company at least had the decency to send me a discard note.

(And as I write this, would you believe I just got a second form rejection? This one was for a job I applied for so long ago that I forgot I applied. Maybe a couple of executives I know were right — I’m never gonna get hired again because I’m older and am out of work. Even though it’s not my fucking fault the CEO put my last company $2 billion in the hole and made thousands of us pay for it … and then jumped ship to an even larger CEO job and a much larger paycheck … Fuck up a company and ruin thousands of lives? That’s perfectly permissible. Lose your job through no fault of your own? Totally unfuckingforgivable.)

And adding to my sunny disposition: Today marks eight months since I arrived home. I’m at the point where I don’t stay around the house often anymore because I don’t want to be a sponge or a drag on my parents — they don’t deserve it. I want to spend time with them while I still have them, but not if their straight-A-student firstborn is such an a absolute failure. (And this is NOT your cue to scold me: “You are NOT a failure!” I don’t want to hear it. It is what it is. My record speaks for itself.)

This is not why I came home. This is not what I bargained for when I gambled on renting the truck and driving back across the country. This is not working out at all. My hope has drained to lower than my bank account at this point. Both will be gone by the end of the month.

As Elvis Costello once eloquently put it, I don’t know how much more of this I can take …

So as I sat in my usual hangout, wasting my life and checking in on the news as the Boston Marathon bombing suspect was being captured, I had my dinner from the Chinese place across the street. This place, which has good food, never fails to give me two fortune cookies  each visit (thought it often forgets to drop in any forks — not today, though).

The first fortune today was more a truism than a fortune:

“Your heart will always make itself known through your words.”

True that.

The second one, though, I really wonder whether it’s true or just plain teasing bullshit:

“Your aspirations are met with success soon.”

Seems as if I’ve heard that one before. Many too many times to believe it. I probably didn’t need to hear this one again. As I said, I despise false hope.

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3 Responses to “Love Those Fortune Cookies, Part 25”

  1. pam ela Says:

    i read your blog every couple of weeks, darling.
    i look forward to it, in fact.

    regret doesn’t get you anywhere, so shake it off like dust.

    i took you off fb (you probably haven’t noticed because your friends’ list has become too crowded). didn’t get the impression that my comments were welcome. no hard feelings, it’s just that i use fb as a way to stay in close contact with my dear ones, and i felt i was getting lost in the crowd.

    much love from your wayward friend.

    • franoramaworld Says:

      What a wonderful, fantastic, boy-howdy way to start my morning! “Hi Fran darling — BTW, I unfriended you.”

      If you had bothered to ask me — and you have NEVER been shy with me –, you would have known that I went looking for you three weeks ago and was dismayed to find that you had vanished, with no way of getting in touch with you. I thought something had happened to you or that you had hit a rough spell. I never expected this.

      In my world, I take the concept of “friend” on FB seriously. My friends list is for friends, relatives, friendly acquaintances and friends of friends sometimes, if there’s a good reason. I have never unfriended anyone. I prefer to be inclusive rather than exclusive. The people who’ve unfriended me to now have been right-wingers who’ve dropped me out of their lives for my political views. Not someone I’ve known over 30 years and have always treated very well,

      If you had a problem with me, All you had to do was was personally message me in private, or say “Let’s Skype” — you KNEW that! Instead, you have to drop away with no explanation, then tell me all this in a public forum? WTF? You’re an intelligent human being — you know better!

      And for what its worth, FB has been weird of late to everyone! it seems only 5% of people’s posts seem to reach only 5% of everyone else’s feeds. Where did I say you weren’t welcome? You’ve never shied away from me before. Why did you start now?

      To hit me with this first thing in the morning, at a time when things have been really precarious for me — well, you couldn’t have hit me harder had you been standing here in front of me.

      Now it really makes me wonder who else i considered a close friend is gonna drop out of my life. You see how that works?

      I DO have a lot of regrets. I do not casually shake things — or people — off. I regret going into newspaper work, I regret caring about my work, I regret having ever become a writer. I sometimes regret caring about people..Sometimes I regret living. I have a lot of pain to show for my mistakes.

      What the hell — we’re born alone and we die alone, right?

      You could have chosen a much better way and maybe saved me a lot of pain. And a lot of wondering and worrying what happened to you.

  2. pam ela Says:

    hello,
    you have my email address — remember email?
    don’t take fb so damn seriously — did i say that we weren’t friends?
    no, i wrote that i dropped you from my fb page because we don’t seem to be connecting on fb.
    unlike you and many people, i purposefully don’t add a lot of people to my fb page, because the more people one has on one’s page, the easier it is for people to get ‘lost’. fb decides who one gets updates from. so i keep my list short so my real friends don’t get lost in the crowd.

    that’s the problem with calling contacts, ‘friends’ —
    people get so rattled when a contact is removed.
    calling it ‘un-friending’ someone (is that even a word?),
    makes it all so hurtful. i unfriended my best friend because
    all of her posts were in a language i don’t speak, so there was no point in having her as a contact on fb, since we send each other emails when we want to communicate, anyway.
    she didn’t take it personally.

    it’s usually me who initiates contact with you, by the way.
    re-read my original comment, please.
    i started off by writing that i regularly read this blog.
    since you mention in this post, ‘for all six of you who read this blog’, i thought you’d be happy to know that i’m regularly checking in.

    you’re blown the whole thing out of proportion.

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