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It’s Friday the 13th

I did not start this hashtag. I merely responded.

I couldn’t stop looking at this tweet, I reread it over and over again. Just wondering, what if…

If I had waited one more second to post that, it would’ve posted at 8:08 am on August 8th. Does anyone see things like this and have it drive you crazy it didn’t turn out perfectly? It’s just like my kids. One was born at 12:51 and the other at 8:59 – this really disturbs me! I remember shaking uncontrollably on this icy slab in an Area 51 looking place that reeked of burning flesh and medical gowns. Sorry for the graphic details, that’s just what a c-section is like. Anyway, half of me was bouncing there just waiting to hear the first cry because I thought that was the moment they’d mark down for the birth certificate and all that. (I don’t know if that’s true, but I implore you to do your own research) It was 12:50, and I knew he was almost out and… no.

12:51! Someone shouted like they were at an auction. Ah well 🙂

This is what happens when I have an idea for a story but hit a roadblock when I can’t figure out what to name a character. Distraction sets in. I’m tired of pouring through ancestry.com or coming across another baby name website that makes me feel like I’ll get a computer virus from it or manifest a pregnancy. Nope. CLOSED for that business. Haha!

Speaking of kids, I’m just waiting for these schools to go virtual again. Schools out here are bare bones already because so many kids are displaying covid symptoms and they already set it up for them to do school work from home if they have any symptoms. Here we go! Hopefully they’ll have a vaccine soon. I’m starting to think my daughter, who is 4, will never set foot in a school, which is sad. Maybe I’m being pessimistic. I just see this future of artificial intelligence teachers, like a Rosie from the Jetsons in every home. Or these Google Home and Alexa devices just crawling off the wall or counter at 8:05 AM and transforming into this AI teacher when home school is in session, and then just go back to the wall and counter when school is over. Eugh!

Please, aliens, are you there? It’s me, Kirsten. A distant relative who was dropped on this marble. It’s okay, I get it, mistakes were made and I forgive you. I know you read that IPCC report, but you all know what’s going on down here anyway. And I had my doubts about you at first because of my doublespeak government. But it’s time to come pick us up now.

Be safe out there, everyone! And thank you so much to everyone supporting this site and reading all my strange stories. Reading is always such a sweet getaway, isn’t it? We all need a getaway these days.

Well, in honor of Friday the 13th, here’s a time where my bad luck drama ultimately turned into something good:

Question: What did your best friend do that ended your friendship?

My Answer: * Names changed for privacy.

When I was three months into 6th grade, my parents told me we were moving from Chicago to Phoenix… just when I landed my very first boyfriend who was also my best friend! I was furious. I didn’t want to leave him. I vowed I would return to Chicago when I was 18 to be with my boyfriend forever.

We moved anyway.

I kept in contact with John* through letters (this was late nineties), and we’d talk on the phone forever. He was so far away… Then there was a death in our family. The funeral was in Chicago, but the loss didn’t register with me. All I could think about was stopping by my old school and seeing John* again.

I did just that. I saw my old friends and got to catch up. We were all seventh graders by that time. Basically, women. It was good seeing them again, considering how hard the move hit me. I felt relief. Then, a bomb was dropped when I asked where John was. They told me he failed sixth grade and had to repeat it. I was confused; he didn’t tell me any of this and if I knew he was struggling I would’ve been happy to help tutor him.

So, I went down to the sixth grade hall and knocked on my old teacher’s door (when you’re the Teachers and Principal’s Pet you get cool privileges in school) and she let John out during class time to talk to me. He held his head down like a wounded dog and barely looked at me. I tried to keep hacking away at the ice, trying to lighten the mood. Then, I had enough with his awkwardness, he acted like he didn’t want to see me. So, I asked him why he was so quiet.

He responded, “I failed sixth grade! Its embarrassing. I didn’t think I’d see you again for you to find out.”

I professed I didn’t care and that I still liked him. We had an awkward hug, and he went back in the class. School was almost dismissed, so I stuck around.

Then, I see him come out of school later and wave him over. He took one look at me and bolted in the other direction! No goodbye, no explanation. I was shocked, hurt. I left the school crying my eyes out in the middle of a sunny afternoon. It was over. That’s when I realized my new home was Phoenix and I never wanted to return to Chicago again because of John and felt deeply stupid suddenly for being mad about moving.

I never moved back to Chicago either, fyi.

Fiction writer. 🌱 Nature lover. Heavy Thinker.

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