You remember M.A.S.H. It was sort of like the paper fortune-teller game, but requiring fewer impossible-to-master origami skills. It was also like going to a psychic at age 10, if the soothsayer had the savvy to put Jonathan Taylor Thomas and Andrew Keegan on your list of potential suitors, and setting your honeymoon at Six Flags Great Adventure. Plus M.A.S.H. belied our still hyper-positive, adolescent outlook on the future: Of the four-or-five choices in each category, most of them bestowed upon you a sparkling home, a sleek red car, and a choice profession, while only one option stuck you in a shack, put a jalopy in your driveway, or made you the garbage man. (Though in NYC, is that really so bad? What benefits you would get!) Since, in our preteen years, we were clearly not capable of making savory choices for ourselves (see: UMBRO shorts), M.A.S.H. helped us decide what we might want to fantasize about doing with the rest of our lives.
Partially because I will never stop concocting crazy possibilities for how my future might play out, and mostly because I wanted an excuse to buy a brand new set of 36 neon/sparkly/metallic Gel Pens ($14 at Staples – RUN, DON’T WALK), I updated the game of M.A.S.H. to include some more realistic scenarios for the modern, New York single lady. So draw that spiral* and figure out the magic number that will strike the attached Husbands, One-Time Celebrity Passes, and Creative Side Projects from your ultimate destiny.
*In case you don't know what I mean by "draw that spiral," here's a refresher on the rules of the game: How To Play M.A.S.H.
Stacey Brook is an NYC-based writer who documents her eccentric wardrobe and handmade/crafting obsessions on EtsyBrook.com. She is also writing a book of personal essays on her failed dating experiences. In all likelihood she will end up living in Ouihauken with a money-grubbing manchild, occasionally fucking Meatloaf.