Predictions can come true. On July 30th, 2014, approximately two hundred and eleven days from now, I will be shamelessly parading at the most populous beach in a bright red with small white polka dots matching bikini two sizes too small. Adorned on my feet will be a pair of 3.5-inch stilettos with straps across my toes, the arch of my feet and two turns above my ankles.
On my left wrist, a colorful but dainty bracelet made of with bells and shells will jingle-jangle as I sashay here and there. My long, dangling earrings drop from my ear lobes down to my jawline and longer still with a bezel bead to catch the light of the sunshine. A little barrette clip to hold my bangs to the side of my head so that the fullness of hair will fly with the breeze from the water.
The following will be tattooed across my right thigh, about three inches below the bikini strap above my hip: CALL ME 315-365-2252.
Reality Check: If this prediction does come true, I should have predicted that I won the lottery. Not a huge winning, something small. $3 Billion, split equally between my hubby, our kid, and yours truly.
What about you? How did you do with your predictions?