Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Worst. Fortune Cookie. Ever.

Wow, I haven't written for a while. It hasn't been for lack of things to say, god knows, but time at home has been limited. I wish I could say that was due to fabulous acting work, but mostly I've been modeling a lot, helped a friend move, did a staged reading, and watched the Oscars. Will refrain from speaking to the latter topic for now, maybe forever. I've got something in the works that isn't quite done yet, so in the meantime, here are some random thoughts.
I had lunch yesterday at my new favorite cheap Chelsea eatery, Sammy's Noodle Shop. While the food was great, I have to say that city-wide (maybe nation-wide), fortune cookies are pretty uniformly disappointing, however. Too often they're not even fortunes, they're advice or just observation cookies. Yesterday mine said "Handsome is as handsome does." I don't have the slightest idea what I'm supposed to do with that information. I've only had the most general of understandings of that phrase to begin with. I've interpreted it to mean "don't be taken in by a pretty face." Sound enough advice I suppose, but how is it a fortune? And how am I supposed to utilize it in my life at present? Is my interpretation of this phrase accurate in the first place? Handsome is as handsome does, what the hell does that really SAY anyway? I think the people in charge of fortunes aren't really trying anymore.

My second bit of randomness is a follow-up on "Do I know you from Somewhere?" The fact is, people constantly tell me I bear an uncanny resemblance to someone from their previous lives. A disturbing number of these people tend to have died young. I haven't found out the causes of death in most cases (one guy died of AIDS) so I haven't been able to ascertain if there is a pattern I might want to watch for. The first time this happened was probably also the most striking. I was living in Seattle at the time, and early on a Sunday morning was walking downtown to a rehearsal. I was passing through a fairly industrial part that circles the downtown area, hardly anyone else on the street, when I noticed a guy walking towards me on the opposite side. He called across to me, "Hey, do you have the time?" I looked at my watch, and gave him his answer. "You look exactly like my younger brother, " he said. "Really?" I replied. "Yeah, but the thing is, he died three years ago." I made general sounds of condolence, and we both kept going in our respective ways. Later it occurred to me to wonder if he had actually cared what time it was; I wonder if he asked me a question just so he could talk to me, hear my voice, know for certain that I was NOT his dead brother, walking towards him on a deserted street on a quiet Sunday morning.

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