Friday, October 22, 2010

I'm (Not) Superstitious

It's one of those absolutes, I guess. Either you are or you aren't. No such thing as "a little superstitious". As in, "Oh, me superstitious? Not so's you'd notice it. I mean, doesn't everyone have some piece of clothing that must be worn in stress-provoking situations?" Maybe.

Maybe everyone keeps a jar of dried lavender on the second shelf beside the bed, with the cap on but not tight, in case you need to open it in the middle of the night without waking the other person in the bed.

Maybe everyone resolutely thinks positive thoughts going down the basement stairs, so there won't be a rat hanging out in the storage room. Positive thoughts like "Little children are learning to like vegetables by watching them grow in Berkeley." A known antidote to rodents. Or "Only 70 days until the end of the 2010 Holiday season!" Singing can help: "Onward Christian Soldiers" or "Joy To The World."

Really, though. I cringe every time I hear some blithe young parent waxing lyrical about an offspring's accomplishments. Too much risk. Sensible tribes speak of their small people with scorn and ridicule, to protect them from jealous spirits. Not giving a child his/her true name until he or she has grown into it also seems advisable.

Then there are spiders. Mostly, try not to kill them. The smallest consequence is rain. There's something about killing one in a theatre dressing room - dooms either the actor or the whole play, so just don't. And even though I wish that every spider ever born (and there are some obscenely egg-swollen specimens at the center of a multiplicity of webs in my garden at this moment) would pack up and leave town on a random wind, I have learned that nice trick with a water glass and a piece of paper called "Relocation". (We do have a lot to thank realtors for!)

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