I'm always in the market for several things -- good food, a compelling book, and a husband. Admittedly, I've had much better luck with the first two items. Luckily, I have a new idea. I got it while eating some fabulous Korean food - thus reinforcing my longstanding belief that food is a reliable solution to all manner of life's problems. (The last time I got a fortune cookie with romantic prospects was at a Chinese restaurant with my boyfriend and his parents. The fortune read something like this: "great things are on the verge of happening." My boyfriend's dad got a huge grin on his face, stuck the fortune in his pocket, and said he wanted to keep it as evidence. I'm quite sure his plan was to pull it out at our wedding luncheon. Unfortunately, the relationship ended before the prophesy could be fulfilled.) But don't think this experience dulled my faith in fortune cookies. Oh no, I'm still a believer, especially after last week's fortune.
With great expectation, I carefully removed the little slip of white paper from the cookie. I could hardly believe my eyes. My heart started beating faster than usual when I read the first word: DESTINY. Could it be? After all these years . . . At last, fulfillment of my heart's desire. I continued reading breathlessly. Here is what it said (and I'm quoting verbatim): "Destiny points to a man whistling a happy tune."
Suddenly, it all became crystal clear. I had been blind to the obvious all these years. Not once had I ever specifically sought out a whistler, let alone one enthusiastically belting out a happy tune, his lips pursed and precisely rounded so as to create the purest tone. Whistling nowadays -- especially the happy tune sort -- is becoming a lost art. Think of the character cheerful whistling implies: a carefree, radiant soul who refuses to cave to stress, or boredom, or clogged arteries.
There's just one problem. The only men I'm aware of who habitually whistle are the Seven Dwarfs. And how would I possibly choose which one? I've nixed Grumpy and Dopey for obvious reasons, but all the others seem to have redeeming qualities.
Any recommendations?
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7 comments:
I'd go for Sleepy. According to what I've been reading, he probably has a food intolerance. You could identify it for him, fix it, and live happily, whistling together. If you can't fix his food intolerance, you can to continue to enjoy great books while he dozes.
Hey!I have an idea! Now that you have narrowed it down to a whistler, you can specifically advertise at all the dating websites, thus saving zillions of hours checking out the 'wrong' man.
You could begin with something like,"Only whistlers need respond."
Happy. Definitely Happy.
This is too good to be tr
This is too good. You are hilarious. I have now bookmarked your blog and it will be a part of my morning routine: NYTimes.com followed by some wholewheatbread. Of course you know that your man must not only whistle, but be an expert in the breakfast arts of wheat germ and flax seed.
Katy Knight (did you know her, she was in my ward as a child) has a website and has arranged to make a movie about blind dates and she will travel the states to anyone who will set her up (and house her while she's there). That's worth considering.
Good morning, Anny, dear. We LOVED reading every word of your blog! I particularly enjoyed the "Rent" poem!
You probably could sue for harassment! I went to the Library at Academy Square yesterday to finalize a room for the Groberg Sibling reunion. There was a meeting (a big one) for people who couldn't pay their rent.
We think you're great and we're always proud of you and interested in your very remarkable life.
love and appreciation from the Blairs
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