turn around

Anne-Marie Yerks

There’s a movie I’ve seen with an interesting premise — at birth, a band is fastened to your wrist. The band counts down to the very moment you will meet your soulmate. Right before the soulmate encounter, you’ll receive a notification so you can be on the lookout for him. I think about that movie because, you know, I’m always waiting. Waiting for love and novel publication. Maybe love shows up at 47 instead of 27. My eyes are primed and lined, looking looking. My lips tingle.

Lip Venom $24.95
 

Basically, I think the human race is a planet-wide bacterial infection. If you pull a cabbage from a garden while blindfolded, you will see the apparition of not everyone gets their novel published and not everyone finds love. The planet is a cell and on that cell we breed and spread our trash and chemicals and some of us try to care. And we try to find love. Stick a candle with sewing pins, each one representing a potential suitor. When the candle burns down to the right pin, your front door will open and he will appear.

A stack of Old Maid cards

They say it’s good luck if, while walking down the street, you get hit with flying birdshit. Such a lucky thing hasn’t happened to me yet. Yesterday I had 6232 steps, thirty-nine active minutes, and it was forty-one degrees outside. Set up three bowls. In one, place a coin. In the other, a ring. In the third, a thimble. Blindfold yourself. Whatever you pick will symbolize your marriage: The coin (will marry a rich man); the ring (will marry early in life); the thimble (will never marry). For $295 you can receive two sessions with the fat removal laser. 

Your pasta salad is delicious
 

Red flag: He wears a pirate costume for three days after National Act-Like-A-Pirate Day is over. Please try us again in the future. TiMER is the name of the soulmate-wristband movie. Five out of five stars. If, on Halloween, you happen to come across a hole dug in the earth, lower your ear and listen. Whatever sound you hear will reveal the occupation of your future husband. Knocking, a carpenter. Wheels, a salesman. Bells, a banker.

Plenty of fish
 

It’s possible there’s life after death, but we might be aliens. Once I woke up in the grip of an invisible body who had his arms wrapped around me. It happened at 7:15 p.m., making me fifteen minutes late for the happy hour at Big Horn. The invisible body never came back after that one time, but I once floated to the ceiling and hit the popcorn crust. Take three chestnuts, assigning a potential lover’s name to each. Burn the nuts in the fireplace — the first one to burst will be your husband.

Bringing sexy back 

Dear Writer: Thank you for the opportunity to consider your work. Unfortunately, we are unable to publish “Death” at this time. Would you date a man who wears reading glasses? Writing a novel can take years and there is no guarantee that anyone other than your mother will ever read it. But your mother is afraid of the mom character. Light a candle and go to a mirror. Eat an apple and brush your hair. Within minutes, the visage of the man you will marry will appear over your shoulder.