Monday, October 19, 2009

Like a Really Bad Comedy About a Gypsy Curse

I'm not superstitious. I don't believe in Feng-Shui. I'm agnostic.

In other words, I'm just here, living my life and don't believe that anything I do is going to cause me bad ju-ju.

Except that I'm now convinced that a gypsy curse has been set on me.

And I've been terrified to blog about it, because I thought I might make the curse angrier and then something heavy would fall on me. Or that I'd end up climbing into my parents home made hot air balloon and fly away, since apparently all of the cool kids are doing it.

Let's rehash the past three weeks, shall we? Of course there was the death of my beloved dog, which I've blogged about here and won't bore you with my grief again, even though I thought about him on my way into the office today and the pain gripped my heart so hard that I thought I was going to pass out. I've put four pets to sleep now, but none of them I have missed this much. And stopping now before I write another depressing post.

In the midst of losing my dog, I was also embroiled in a security investigation. I'd like to say that I was the one doing the investigating, but I wasn't. Instead, I was being investigated by my company for potentially developing and releasing a malware virus into the company. At first, I thought the whole thing was a joke, because me? Really? I may work for an IT company, but I'm actually the Tweedle Dee of technology. In fact, when the investigator asked me if I backed up my laptop, I paused and then asked "doesn't it do it automatically?" Hell, when Blogher contacted me to ask me to shrink down my header, I asked them if they'd mind doing it for me, beause I? Have no freaking clue how to do it. My job here is to look cute and make people laugh. Not to know IT, yo.

I've been cleared and I'm sure they now realize that even putting me on the list of suspects was ridiculous, although I sure hope the person who had to go through my work laptop enjoyed the 10,000 pictures of my kids that I have saved on it, and they obviously now know that I would never think of using my work laptop for personal use. Cough, cough.

Since I was being investigated, I was told that I would not be provided with a replacement laptop and would instead have to use my personal computer. Which is totally awesome, except for the fact that I don't own one.

Which meant I had to borrow a crappy laptop from someone and work out of my Yahoo account, because nothing says very important person like working out of your Yahoo account and having half of your emails go into people's junk folders, because their email thinks you're trying to convince them to use potions to grow their penis size.

But worst of all? Is my almost impeccable driving record (if you don't include the incident in March 2001 when a car full of people driven by a 16-year old girl went through a red light and slammed into me) has now been ruined. Huge props to GEICO, who might be the best insurance company ever, since they've yet to cancel me even though I slammed into the back of two vehicles in three weeks. Because one fender bender, just isn't enough.

The first one was totally not my fault. Some old lady stopped in the middle of the parking lot in front of me for no reason, and chose to do it right when I was hanging Little Man a piece of paper to throw out his gum. I slammed on the brakes when I realized what was going on and the impact was at such a low speed, that I was certain I'd stopped 0.0002 inches from her bumper, since I felt no impact. But when she got out of her little Miata looking pissed off, that's when the "oh crap" thought entered my head. The paint damage on her vehicle was pretty minor, but my Jeep Liberty acted like it hadn't even hit anything.

The second accident might have slightly been more my fault. I was waiting to turn right to get on another street, and there was another car in front of me. I was looking to the left, waiting for my chance, and there was a huge opening, that I assumed (which is the key word here) that the car went. At the next opening, I slammed on the accelerator (hello Nascar? I'm available anytime you want me) only to slam into the rear end of the vehicle in front of me, who I guess was waiting for an invitation to go.

It was a Honda CRV, which apparently is a car made of tin foil and paper, because his trunk? Let's just say it was practically kissing the back seat and my Liberty does not have a V8 engine.

But the worst part of accident number two in three weeks was that the poor guy still had paper plates on his car. And from the expiration date printed on those temporary plates, it was pretty clear that he'd had his brand new car about three days. Welcome to the real world, SUCKER!

My Jeep, on the other hand, took it like an Ultimate Fighting Championship beast/man hybrid and except for a crack in the plastic around the license plate holder and a few missing paint chips on my bumper, which give it some character, if you ask me, my Jeep is otherwise intact and ready to take out anyone else who gets in our way.

Both times, I was driving my children around, because let's face it, I'm rarely without at least one backseat driver nowadays, and the second accident, as I sat there freaking out trying not to say curse words, but unable to hold in the "OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohmyGod" verbal diarrhea, Little Man spoke up from the back seat and said to me "Don't worry, Mommy, it's just an accident."

And this is where it's proven once again that my son is a better person than me. And when he's a teenager and backs up into a pole with my Porshe (because surely, I'll be driving a cooler vehicle by then, yes?), I hope that I return the favor and tell him the same thing.

Except for the fact that I'm not a good person, so I know I'll end up going ape shit on him. But hey, knowing your own limitations is a sign of maturity, right?

This week is a new week. As an eternal optimist, I feel like that maybe, just maybe the gypsy curse has run its course. This weekend, I spent way too much money investing in something I will probably only need for another 12 months to 18 months. I got the houndstooth pattern, which clearly ups my cool factor by 10 points all by itself. I think the sheer coolness of that bag coming my way soon has broken the curse.

And now good things are coming to me. I know it. I opened 12 fortune cookies before being told so.

Love,

Catwoman.

7 comments:

Betsy Mae said...

OMG! You poor thing! Yes crappy. I thought bad things happened in threes but obviously not in your case. It can only get better from here...now go and get some chocolate or ice cream or some booze and give yourself a treat.

Nina Diane said...

yeah...you sure were having some bad mojo but I'm sure it's all over with now :) have some fun....

Linda said...

I have also performed that exact same accident while assuming that the driver in front would take advantage of the mahoosive gap in traffic. I was lucky that the driver in front was my husband (but I did have to endure months of women drivers comments - but that stopped when I started making references to driving miss daisy)

Burgh Baby said...

OMG. We are living the same life AGAIN.

Someone, who shall rename unnamed, may have backed my car into another car. In her own driveway. It did nothing to the SUV which I think belongs to the "man" of the house, but HOOBOY is that car made of tinsel and rubber glue. The unnamed person did not have the balls to report the "incident" to her husband and ended up in pot of boiling water over it, but not until after HE drove the broken car up over a curb and ripped off the plastic piece that keeps the entire engine from falling to the ground.

Anyway. I do believe in karma, and that bitch owes us a good week.

Schmoochiepoo said...

Well crap, you've had a lousy time of it eh? Sorry to hear about your turn of bad luck. UPside? You've paid yoru dues to Karma and she needs to leave you alone for a while :)

Karen - Mommy to four sweeties said...

I am sorry you have been jinxed.
I will try to think up a bad voo- doo curse to undo your gypsy one.

Loukia said...

You just need to move to Ottawa, period. Then I could buy you a few drinks!