Sing and Rejoice? Are you kidding me?
At lunch Wednesday, my fortune cookie read, "Sing and rejoice, fortune is smiling on you."
My first thought was, "Are you kidding? This has been one of the worst weeks in recent memory at work, and it's only going downhill from here."
My second thought was, "Sing and rejoice? Why do those two things always get paired together?"
I mean, really. How often do you sing when you are rejoicing? And how often does singing constitute rejoicing? Maybe I just don't get it because I'm a hip hop fan. My first inclination when I'm celebrating something isn't to bust a rhyme.
Anyway, the point is that I wasn't buying what that fortune cookie was selling. I was intent on fully embracing my grueling and discouraging week with the requisite bitter and resentful attitude. I was determined not to be detered from my sulking and frustration. After all, I have a blog called "the plenary instant" that purports to elevate momentary absolutism to an art form. By golly, I had every right and reason to be annoyed, and I wasn't going to let some ridiculously cheerful and obviously inaccurate fortune cookie divert me from wollowing in the misery of the moment.
I even kept the darn thing in my pocket to show others as I scoffed at its absurdity. And I did show it to folks - several, in fact - pulling the little slip of paper from amongst my change as we shared tales of woe.
Then along came a Travel Zoo email alert. Paris from DFW, round trip, $209.
My sour mood still working hard to squash any burgeoning glimmer of cheer, I clicked the link with suspicion, thinking, "Right, $209. What, for a ride on a hot air balloon that takes three weeks to make it to Iceland for refueling."
But you know, fate just wasn't cooperating with my determined attempts to be pissy all week. The deal was for real.
To provide a little context, Kellye and I have been scouring the web for a good deal to Prague the last week of April or the first week of May. She has a friend who will be spending three weeks over there visiting her son. He's in graduate school there. She has offered us a free place to stay while in Prague, if we can make it over there. That, along with a built in tour guide who knows the city, speaks the language and just so happens to share our political bent, makes for a compelling reason to get over there. Trouble has been that the fares to Prague have all been just a bit too expensive to stomach. We had just about given up on Prague altogether.
Then along comes $209 to Paris. Now I know what you're thinking. Paris isn't Prague, and it isn't even particularly close. Prague is know as "Paris of the East" in Europe, but that doesn't really mean much in this context. What does mean a lot, however, is that there are plenty of airlines that fly cheap and direct from Paris to Prague if you can just get across the Atlantic.
Enter the rejoicing.
Paris is my favorite city on earth. Prague is a VERY close second. Fortune is smiling on me after all! Paris and Prague in the same trip. Tres bien!
So in a little over two weeks, we're off to Europe again. This is a budget trip all the way, especially since the only thing higher than gas prices right now is the value of the Euro against the dollar. But I don't need fancy restaurants and amenities to enjoy Paris and Prague. Hell, I could sleep in a tent in the park and still love those two cities in the spring.
So now I'm rejoicing over our good fortune, and all that silly stuff at work seems to be suddenly much more tolerable. Ahhh... The sweet joy of perspective.
Now I just have to figure out what in the heck I should sing...
My first thought was, "Are you kidding? This has been one of the worst weeks in recent memory at work, and it's only going downhill from here."
My second thought was, "Sing and rejoice? Why do those two things always get paired together?"
I mean, really. How often do you sing when you are rejoicing? And how often does singing constitute rejoicing? Maybe I just don't get it because I'm a hip hop fan. My first inclination when I'm celebrating something isn't to bust a rhyme.
Anyway, the point is that I wasn't buying what that fortune cookie was selling. I was intent on fully embracing my grueling and discouraging week with the requisite bitter and resentful attitude. I was determined not to be detered from my sulking and frustration. After all, I have a blog called "the plenary instant" that purports to elevate momentary absolutism to an art form. By golly, I had every right and reason to be annoyed, and I wasn't going to let some ridiculously cheerful and obviously inaccurate fortune cookie divert me from wollowing in the misery of the moment.
I even kept the darn thing in my pocket to show others as I scoffed at its absurdity. And I did show it to folks - several, in fact - pulling the little slip of paper from amongst my change as we shared tales of woe.
Then along came a Travel Zoo email alert. Paris from DFW, round trip, $209.
My sour mood still working hard to squash any burgeoning glimmer of cheer, I clicked the link with suspicion, thinking, "Right, $209. What, for a ride on a hot air balloon that takes three weeks to make it to Iceland for refueling."
But you know, fate just wasn't cooperating with my determined attempts to be pissy all week. The deal was for real.
To provide a little context, Kellye and I have been scouring the web for a good deal to Prague the last week of April or the first week of May. She has a friend who will be spending three weeks over there visiting her son. He's in graduate school there. She has offered us a free place to stay while in Prague, if we can make it over there. That, along with a built in tour guide who knows the city, speaks the language and just so happens to share our political bent, makes for a compelling reason to get over there. Trouble has been that the fares to Prague have all been just a bit too expensive to stomach. We had just about given up on Prague altogether.
Then along comes $209 to Paris. Now I know what you're thinking. Paris isn't Prague, and it isn't even particularly close. Prague is know as "Paris of the East" in Europe, but that doesn't really mean much in this context. What does mean a lot, however, is that there are plenty of airlines that fly cheap and direct from Paris to Prague if you can just get across the Atlantic.
Enter the rejoicing.
Paris is my favorite city on earth. Prague is a VERY close second. Fortune is smiling on me after all! Paris and Prague in the same trip. Tres bien!
So in a little over two weeks, we're off to Europe again. This is a budget trip all the way, especially since the only thing higher than gas prices right now is the value of the Euro against the dollar. But I don't need fancy restaurants and amenities to enjoy Paris and Prague. Hell, I could sleep in a tent in the park and still love those two cities in the spring.
So now I'm rejoicing over our good fortune, and all that silly stuff at work seems to be suddenly much more tolerable. Ahhh... The sweet joy of perspective.
Now I just have to figure out what in the heck I should sing...
posted by Danny Henley at 3/31/2005 08:56:00 PM
2 Comments:
Dude! I have to sign up for this Travel Zoo thing you're talking about. Sounds pretty great!
Ya'll have fun.
In my heart of hearts (and in the shower and in the van alone) I sing. I make a joyful noise.
Sadly, it's really nothing more than a noise. My failing ears have always been quite good with pitch, oddly, and I know exactly how... bad... I... sound.
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