As I was getting in the car to head to work this morning, I noticed a fortune in front of the driver's seat. I
My car isn't made of marble.
I do not believe in fortunes or psychics or any of that jazz. In fact, I like to prove them wrong. "Oh yeah? I'll be lucky in love on the 15th? Well it's the 15th, I just hit on that cute guy in the free clinic and he stabbed me in the appendix. How do you like them apples
I'll keep you posted on how I manage to embarrass myself during lunch and whether or not I follow the advice of the mysterious fortune. (If I learned one thing from
*Glorida Vanderbilt makes tapered leg jeans. She is not a psychic. Her name just rolls off the tongue so nicely behind "how do you like them apples".