Today I bought a black Master lock for the day lockers at the gym. I haven't really felt wary ever about leaving my stuff in the lockers (my gym being as posh as it is), but today I quite *efficiently* wanted to drop off my heavy bag at the gym while I ventured further west to get a haircut.

I felt like I was opening a fortune cookie as I pried the packaging apart to find the combination.

In the spirit of free-spirited inquiry (rather than say, irrationally full disclosure), I will divulge the combination: 35 - 21 - 35. Standing there in the lock room and staring down at those numbers, a death knell seemed to toll.

Should those numbers actually convey any such dread to my mind? Probably not.

I think back to the time we got our palms read in Philadelphia, during the first week or so of freshman year. Lisa and Emily compared notes after they came out from the fortune teller's inner sanctum and had received disappointingly similar fortunes about boys and happiness (largely what led to the subsequent Holy Water Heist of 2000!) So, I didn't expect much when I went inside. And yes - she actually didn't tell me much about myself...except that I had some psychic ability. Ooooh!

In quite a different way, I like to remember that part in Jane Eyre where she gets her palm read during the grand festivities at Thornfield! Isn't it in some way a decisive step in Jane's life when she realizes that her outwardly brooding boss is inwardly manipulative and kooky enough to dress up in drag as a gypsy?

I mean, seriously, "F*** this Sarah Plain and Tall shit, I want to get freaky with you!" And that is what happened.