Sunday, May 5, 2013

"A fool's brain digests philosophy into folly, science into superstition, and art into pedantry. Hence University education." *


   Not to be an uber-superstitious, sign-, tea leaf-, palm-, and horoscope-reading type, but I keep finding double yolks in my egg cartons and I feel (felt, sigh) that it must hold some sort of special significance for me.

   At first, I was really excited (eggcited?). I thought it was some sort of lucky sign.
My eggs. My beautiful eggs.


   I’m Irish and we’re the people that brought you lucky charms, knocking on wood, banshees and leprechauns (not to mention being huge proponents of every Catholic superstition you’ve ever heard of…which is pretty much EVERY PART of Catholicism). I also have an extensive background in theatre and we’re the people that brought you “break a leg” and not saying Macbeth in a playhouse and several other nonsensical things like not saying “good luck” and the plays of Samuel Beckett, G.B. Shaw and Oscar Wilde and don’t change your underwear during the run of the show. It can’t be all coincidence, can it? (Though it could easily all be linked to drinking, which both the theatre and the Irish bring to the table and insist on you serving IMMEDIATELY.)

   So, okay, three times in one week I had double yolks! I was sure it was a really great thing. I read that approximately 1 in 1000 yolks is a double. So my three in one week seemed like a really big to-do. I drew this prematurely, because I felt sure we’d all be celebrating something grand before the end of Cinco de Mayo:
Eggtastic.


   But when I look it up online it says that either someone in my immediate family is expecting twins or someone is going to die. Um…gross to both of those.

   In the interest of making things seem more exciting than twins and death, I’m determined to try to appreciate the bounty that is my egg carton(s) from Trader Joe’s. I guess I can force myself to be excited about double the protein and good cholesterol in my morning breakfast.

   But it is kind of a letdown.

   Wikipedia says that a lot of times a double yolk is the result of younger hens who ovulate more rapidly than their older sister-wives. And sometimes those hens just aren’t all on the same cycle, and that leads to faster ovulation. And that reminds me of high school and how my period, which started out full-force when I was ELEVEN, was finally in synch with everyone else’s. When you go to all-girls school, everyone sort of synches up eventually (creepy and cool all at once) and it was sort of nice to always have someone around with a tampon, a kind word, and a couple of Midol on any given day of the week.

   But none of the news is as exciting (eggciting) as I’d anticipated.

   Maybe if my whole carton had been double yolks, I’d be famous like this chick (no pun intended. Seriously. I wanted to say "bitch" but that seemed mean):

   This is another reason I should move to England. They get way more excited about stuff that no one in America gives a flying fuck about. (Trust me: I sent pictures of double yolks to a bunch of people and NO ONE GAVE A CRAP.)

*This quote is from George Bernard Shaw. He was and is one of my favorite writers, but he would never have wanted to be friends with me.

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