I am not superstitious by nature. Sure, I’ll do silly things like hold my breath while driving through a tunnel…you know, if I remember, or notice in time, or I’m not talking to someone in the car. And when I was in 2nd or 3rd grade my friends and I use to go out of our way not to step on cracks in the blacktop because heaven forbid we be the ones to break our mother’s backs. The shame! But as the years went on, I’ve not gone out of my way to avoid walking under ladders, I let black cats walk in front of me, and I (can’t believe I’m admitting this) totally sad MacBeth (I WASN’T ALONE ON THIS) backstage at the 8th grade dance concert – and you know what….it all turned out fine! And that girl’s ankle totally healed…I’m kidding!!
So this may raise eyebrows as to why I have an issue with Friday the 13th. There are a lot of different reasons that people say Friday the 13th got the reputation it has. Good ole Wikipedia lends this bit of folklore as to why the day has such a bad rap:
One theory states that it is a modern amalgamation of two older superstitions: that thirteen is an unlucky number and that Friday is an unlucky day.
- In numerology, the number twelve is considered the number of completeness, as reflected in the twelve months of the year, twelve hours of the clock, twelve gods of Olympus, twelve tribes of Israel, twelve Apostles of Jesus, the 12 Descendants of Muhammad Imams, etc., whereas the number thirteen was considered irregular, transgressing this completeness. There is also a superstition, thought by some to derive from the Last Supper or a Norse myth, that having thirteen people seated at a table will result in the death of one of the diners.
But anyone who knows me, knows I have a personal vendetta against Friday the 13th – why you ask? Because the last time I had a run in with Friday the 13th…it was the day before my wedding. I woke up on that rehearsal day totally relaxed and ready to have some fun with my matron of honor, bridesmaids, and hostesses at our group nail appointment followed by lunch. I had nothing to stress about – I’d been planning the wedding for close to 14 months and felt I had every little thing organized. What can I say – it pays to be OCD in this business. My dad was going to come by the house prior to our nail appointment to pick up everything that was going to the church & to the reception venue because let’s be honest, can you imagine 6+ girls with wet nails trying to pick up 18 boxes & garment bags and not squealing like little girls at the first pucker in your nail polish – yeah, that’s what I thought.
So the girls load up my dad’s rented SUV with everything, and I mean EVERYTHING for the wedding and I give him my schedule for the day (as well as the typed schedule for him – hello! OCD still happening!) and a big hug. I headed back into the house to try and wrangle my beloved bridesmaids as they flutter around the house trying to find purses and shoes, doing backflips (yeah, that’s right, how cool are my friends??) and get in as many photo-ops as possible prior to leaving. We’re simply waiting on 1 more of my gals to arrive when we hear this giant BANG!!!! The following statements came out of people’s mouths;
- “Oh mah gosh y’all – did I just experience my first Californ-yah earthquake?”
- “This isn’t a gun toting neighborhood is it??”
- “Don’t worry about it, it can’t be anything that serious. It’s the day before your wedding!!”
As soon as these select statements have made their appearance we hear ::knock knock:: on my front door. I’m still not all that phased until I open the front door and there stands my former sorority sister & hostess to my wedding, Katie. Her normally bubbly adorable self is paler than a white sheet and following proceeds to tumble out of her mouth;
“Heyiknowitsbeenfourteenmonthssincewe’veseeneachotherandimreallyhappytobehere (breath) butyourdadwasjustinacaraccidentbuthesokithinkandyouneedtogoutsiderightnow”.
Yeah. See what words YOU picked up out of that sentence. Right. With military precision, that I’m still amazed to this day I had under those circumstances, I turned back into my house, immediately silenced all the bridesmaids and said; “Ladies, there’s been an accident. Please follow me and bring all your digital cameras & cell phones.” We then marched outside where my dad (who was totally 100% a-ok – just a little shaken!) was conversing with the driver who T-boned him. Upon assessing my dad was ok, everyone turned to look at the my dad’s rental car….which is now wedged between a Benz & a truck. Now remember what was inside that rental car…wait for it…right – everything (from the dress, to the cake topper, to the hand drawn seating chart) for my wedding.
Have any of you ever thrown a cat into a hen house and watched as every hen starts squawking and attempting to fly and screeching as madness ensues? Ok, I haven’t either, but what happened next makes me feel like I have. A bridesmaid’s duty is obviously to be of help to the bride during her big day. Most people think this means attending bridal showers, fetching water for the bride, agreeing to pose sweetly in photos even after the muscles in your cheeks begin to atropine – but you’d be wrong. My ‘maids instantly turned into the paparazzi. Covering every angle of the accident with digital cameras, doing barrel rolls to avoid debris on the ground and proceeding to form a line as they began extracting everything from inside the destroyed (I have to say destroyed, because yes, it was totaled) rental car. The poor woman* who T-boned my dad didn’t know what to make of it. She went from swapping information to having 9 girls flying around in a tizzy of excitement and others forming a phone tree informing everyone from groomsmen to in-laws about the level of atrocity that had now marred my wedding weekend – and don’t forget at least 5 photo ops found their way into this (amazing) mess.
I’ll spare everyone the details of waiting for a tow-truck and sorting everything out amongst the drivers and whether or not one of my bridesmaid’s made the lady driving the car cry or not. But needless to say a few hours late for our nail appointment I dropped my girls off and then went and took 30 minutes for myself (where I may or maynot have tweeted some very crude things about my opinion of certain events that may or may not have affected my mood that day – ha!) and when I returned to the nail spa – the nail techs were in stitches because my bridesmaids had been reading my tweets ALOUD from their iPhones – traitors!
But seriously – those girls made what could have been a very terrible day for me and my dad into something quite comical and will always be remembered as a big event amongst what made our wedding what it was. But needless to say, I’ve had a score to settle with Friday the 13th. So in the almost 2 years since that day I’ve tried to own (like a boss) every Friday the 13th that’s crossed paths with me. I refuse to give the day the satisfaction of besting me. So…
Happy Friday the 13th, Y’all!
~ Carson ~
*to clarify – that poor woman who hit my dad was to blame for the accident. She openly admitted she wasn’t watching the road because she had turned around to watch her baby in the backseat….while driving. She was also doing over 40 in a 25mph zone. So before anyone feels bad for mother of the year….remember that hand drawn seating chart I was talking about?? Yeah…guess what suffered all the impact of the accident….indeed. But these are all minor things in the bigger picture.