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I walked under a ladder on Friday the 13th. Twice. I was meeting some friends in MaBell's, and the quickest way to get there (and back) was through a really narrow alleyway, which had some scaffolding up in it, and a ladder on the scaffolding--so it was kind of unavoidable. I'll admit it, though, I tried to edge myself past on the far side of it. In the evening I was waiting for the black cat that lives near Hall to cross my path, but she never did.
I'm not superstitious, really--I don't actually believe that 'bad luck' will befall me if I walk under a ladder or something--but I was sort of 'raised' superstitious. I think it's just a little more than mere habit that makes me, say, throw spilt salt over my left shoulder. It's an urge much like the obsessive-compulsive ones that tell me the door must be either shut or open (never cracked or ajar), or that my socks have to match (in terms of size, shape, and elastic pressure, not colour). And yet when I hear other people's superstitions, they sound utterly stupid. Like my friend Julia's thing about "splitting the pole": if a group of people are walking together, they have to walk around the same side of a pole or similar obstacle, otherwise it's 'bad luck'. Which is just silly. If there's any such thing as luck, then--by its very definition--surely there's nothing we can do to influence it.
On another note... It's sunny again! I should really spend more time outside, while it's nice like this. I've been watching a lot of movies recently. I finally saw 'The Big Lebowski', which was every bit as awesome as everyone says it is. However it also provided yet another opportunity to be appalled at who hasn't heard of Creedence Clearwater Revival. How can you appreciate lines like "At least they left the tape deck--and the Creedence" if you're unfamiliar with the wonderousness of CCR? I used to think it was just an American thing, but Luke is American and he hadn't heard of them. Maybe it's just a Southern thing. Or maybe it's another 'Molly listens to middle-aged man music' thing.
So, off to the outside. Yesterday afternoon was spent at the beach with Debbie and, varyingly, Dominique, John, John's friend Alistair, and eventually Hannah. The eider ducks that were in the sea over break seem to have left. I'm glad I got to see them this year. Now: more outside while I still can. (ETA 7/5: The ducks are still there. They must have just been gone at the time because the tide was low.)
I'm not superstitious, really--I don't actually believe that 'bad luck' will befall me if I walk under a ladder or something--but I was sort of 'raised' superstitious. I think it's just a little more than mere habit that makes me, say, throw spilt salt over my left shoulder. It's an urge much like the obsessive-compulsive ones that tell me the door must be either shut or open (never cracked or ajar), or that my socks have to match (in terms of size, shape, and elastic pressure, not colour). And yet when I hear other people's superstitions, they sound utterly stupid. Like my friend Julia's thing about "splitting the pole": if a group of people are walking together, they have to walk around the same side of a pole or similar obstacle, otherwise it's 'bad luck'. Which is just silly. If there's any such thing as luck, then--by its very definition--surely there's nothing we can do to influence it.
On another note... It's sunny again! I should really spend more time outside, while it's nice like this. I've been watching a lot of movies recently. I finally saw 'The Big Lebowski', which was every bit as awesome as everyone says it is. However it also provided yet another opportunity to be appalled at who hasn't heard of Creedence Clearwater Revival. How can you appreciate lines like "At least they left the tape deck--and the Creedence" if you're unfamiliar with the wonderousness of CCR? I used to think it was just an American thing, but Luke is American and he hadn't heard of them. Maybe it's just a Southern thing. Or maybe it's another 'Molly listens to middle-aged man music' thing.
So, off to the outside. Yesterday afternoon was spent at the beach with Debbie and, varyingly, Dominique, John, John's friend Alistair, and eventually Hannah. The eider ducks that were in the sea over break seem to have left. I'm glad I got to see them this year. Now: more outside while I still can. (ETA 7/5: The ducks are still there. They must have just been gone at the time because the tide was low.)
