Storms & Superstition

Sometime in elementary school my best friend informed me that if the first words I said when waking up in the morning were "rabbit, rabbit," I would have exceptionally the best day of my life.

Naturally, I spent the next several years trying to whisper rabbit, rabbit before saying else in the morning.

One fine morning, I did it. Groggy and half asleep, I whispered,"rabbit, rabbit," and then rolled back over and fell promptly to sleep.

Believe it or not, that day was unexceptional.

Do you know why?

Because rabbit, rabbit is a SCAM. That's why.

And so are black cats, broken mirrors, open umbrellas and, most importantly, chain mail promising either despair or magical powers contingent on whether I pass on the message.

So today, I have decided something:

There is no reason to continue my superstitious tendencies.

Henceforth I will feel free to break mirrors, spill salt, walk under suspicious looking ladders and, most importantly, fully realize that even if i do send forward that chain letter, my long, lost true love will not, I repeat, WILL NOT, spend every night building a bubblegum shrine and pining over me.

You want to know why?

Because chain letters and broken mirrors have nothing to do with good luck or bad luck, great days or terrible, no-good days.

Here's what actually has an effect:

The Sun. And all that vitamin D packed inside its beautiful, warm rays.

And that's why I live in Arizona.

It is also why I didn't cringe, even a little bit, when in the living room this morning, my mom opened and closed every umbrella we own.

Additionally, I am not blaming those umbrellas for the bad hair day that resulted in at least four different failed hairstyles and, ultimately, a flat ponytail OR for me dropping 50 percent of the four posters I was carrying back to the office OR for the instant when I decided to pick up my open computer bag, which proceeded to spin in a circle and drop everything I own, including my computer, on the wet cement driveway OR for the acme event, me slipping on my boots and falling down the stairs.

Instead, I am blaming the rain.

And the fact that Arizona has forgotten who she is and has replaced the sun with rain and a tornado watch.

Now, for those of you concerned about me falling down the stairs, don't be. It was one of my more graceful moments. In fact, I think I fell down those stairs more gracefully than I could have walked them. (Although, I don't know if the kid standing at the top of the stairs would agree.)

I am attributing this stroke of luck on such a rainy day to the years I spent whispering rabbit, rabbit in the morning.

Just so there's no confusion, rabbit, rabbit is still a scam.

But I suppose enough elementary school belief in good fortune can save you a little bit of luck for a rainy day.

And if you ask me, there's nothing unexceptionable about a little bit of luck on a rainy day.