Luck Be a Lady?

I don't exactly know how much credit I can grant fortune sometimes. Part of me likes the idea of it, but part of me is hesitant to give much weight to something that can also come in cookie form.


Senior year of college I went to fortune teller with my friend Kath on a whim. Palm readings for $5 on the side of the road on Rt. 9. Well, we were missing class anyway, and graduation was swiftly approaching, so why not?


This young woman brought us onto her sunporch and we each took turns having our palms read. We opted for the personality reading, where she'd tell you more about yourself rather than what was going to happen somewhere down along the road. She told Kath things that seemed to resonate strongly with her, and for the most part seemed really accurate. I was really curious about what she would have to tell me.


When it was my turn, we sat down together behind a screen and she asked me when my birthday was and which hand I wrote with. I opened my right hand for her, and she grabbed it and began tracing it with her finger like they do in the movies. She looked at me and asked (pretty ominously), "do you want to hear only good things, or the bad things too?" 


Damn my curiosity.


Well, to be perfectly honest, I was kind of astounded at what she picked up on. In about five minutes, she was able to tell more about me than some of my good friends would be able. No, I won't write what she told me, why spoil the end of the story for anyone? What I will say though, is that after that I was pretty impressed and could finally see why other people put so much consideration into things like this.


That is, until today.


It's amazing how quickly you can abandon an idea. We all love those fortune cookies we get at Chinese restaurants, and generally always try to apply it to our lives in some way, whether it be the message, the lucky numbers on the back or in some cases the "learn Chinese" phrases that are never useful. 


Well, today my co-worker Lindsay and I stumbled across a pair of fortune cookies in our office breakroom. Being the Nosy-Nancies we are, we took them and greedily opened them to see what fate awaited us. Lindsay went first, and as I heard the cookie crack open, I heard her squeal, "Molly! Look! What does this mean?"


When she opened the cookie, she didn't just get a small paper fortune, OH NO. She got six.
SIX FORTUNES.

Oh, so this is what luck looks like?

5 of them said "Life to you is a dashing and bold adventure", while the remaining one said, "God will give you everything that you want." Not too bad. I was really excited to see what I got.

Well, I only got one fortune. What a fortune it was.

Really?

Touché destiny. Well played.

Six months?!

So, I've hit the six month mark in Virginia.


Part of me can't believe I've been here this long, and part of me is pissed at the other part for its lack of confidence.


I never really expected for it to be easy, and rest assured it hasn't been. I'm still adjusting to things after all this time, and making new cultural discoveries almost daily.


Note: DO NOT refer to any liquor store as the "packie" in your colloquial Massachusetts way. It is often misinterpreted as a racial no-no...FYI...


Today, I found myself watching Boston Med and realizing that in all the time I've spent here, I really never allowed myself to be actually homesick. When I moved here, I started work the following day and haven't stopped since (minus holidays, yes, UMass homecoming counts). Listening to the accents, the casually dropped "wicked", combined with the noise of the sirens outside my apartment made me so homesick I could hardly breathe.

I miss that dirty water...

That's not to say that everything in Virginia has been bad. I don't want to give off that impression at all - I have had a lot of fun in the six months I've lived here, and I've been incredibly lucky with all the opportunities that I've been given.


I've been very fortunate with my job. I'm getting better at it all the time, learning so much I wish it was graded, and having fun with my co-workers. In all honesty, I lucked out. Your co-workers could just be people that you have nothing in common with, besides walking the same bit of carpet everyday. No, these people invite me out because they know I'm new to the area, answer my questions, and (usually) understand my obscure pop culture references free from judgment. Not many people get that.


I live a mile from the Pentagon, 3 from the Lincoln Memorial and National Mall, and less than a 10 minute drive from that high school in "Remember the Titans". That's pretty cool. This is the most powerful city of the free world (as advertised by radio station 99.5), and has been the setting for some amazing things, including this:

This is why I majored in Poli Sci, people.

Every so often though, I find myself missing all of my friends from home to death. Watching your friends get tagged in pictures together on facebook only reminds you that you're not there, and only being able to call your mom instead of going into a different room in your house to talk or hug her really sucks. But, fortunately I'm getting better with it.

I've learned way more about myself in these 6 months than in any of the four years of college where you're expected to "find yourself". I never knew that I could really cook, fix a broken fuse in my car, paint on a canvas and have it not suck, or put myself out there in place where I'm pretty much alone. And to risk sounding completely narcissistic, I'm damn proud of myself.

For anyone out there that has moved from home, or is anticipating doing so, this is my advice:

1. Expect nothing and prepare for everything.

2. Evolve, but don't lose your quirks (ironically, they'll keep you sane).

3. Do something unexpected whenever life gets boring (today I joined a kickball league!)

4. There is nothing a glass (read: bottle) of wine and a Jen Lancaster book can't solve.

PREACH!

I don't really know what life has in store for me next, but if it's anything like the last six months, bring it on...