Thankful to have such brutal honesty from my loved ones I opted to protect myself from the "Rule of 3" by any means possible. This required a change of attire...
(This would be funnier if my face was photoshopped in but I lack the resources and ability to make this a reality).
Armored and ready to roll I went about living my life as per usual, determined that no more bad luck would befall me or my loved ones. Exactly one week had gone by and I was positive the worst was behind me. Until I received 3 terrible omens that promised more was yet to come....
Missed calls from Shifra.
Beads of sweat formed on my brow and my hands shook as I dialled her number. She answered promptly and this was what followed:
"Shifra?? I have missed calls from you. What's happened now?"
"Dad crashed your car."
"Hahahahahahahaha, GOOD ONE! But seriously, what happened?"
"Dad crashed your car. It's a write-off. Look Miriam he was really stressed ok so don't be a bitch" (or something like that).
Bless my sister for her unrivalled powers of sensitivity in the face of disaster after disaster.
But perhaps due to her frank and unsympathetic delivery (or perhaps in spite of it) I hung up the phone feeling strangely numb. It was happening.
Two down, one to go.
(I should add that my family were in the car at the time of accident and thankfully no-one was badly injured).
My mother also had the temerity to inform me that a whole box of my books had been salvaged from the charred remains of my possessions. And what book do you think was top of the pile? Fire with Fire - by Naomi Wolf.
If I believed in god I'd say he is most definitely laughing at me.
I do not want to alarm you dear readers, when I confess that this Saturday I am departing for India for a one-week roadshow representing the Entertainment Department of the Venetian. (Bless my linguistical ability to say "Hi! How are you? Where are you from?" in Hindi).
This Saturday which commemorates the 2-week anniversary of the Waks Fire and the one-week anniversary of losing my beloved car, I board a plane for a foreign country.
This Saturday.
September 11.
Omen much?
Let us take a moment, to commemorate the loss of my dear, green, giant, guzzling, reliable, Mitsubish Magna, that my even dearer brother bestowed upon me, along with my silver bubble scoop backed space suit that even Lady Gaga would have had to call "cool" that never got to see the light of day.
I know not when I will write again. But let us hope that the rule of 3 does not exist and that I am not about to be smote down for my blasmephous bloggings.
Arrivederci, namaste, and guten nacht!
